


Shielded in Broken Armours

by AliceMontrose



Series: Shielded in Broken Armours [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Slash, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 102,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMontrose/pseuds/AliceMontrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Angelian attack on Demonis fails, Marzio Zain-Reil finds himself the prisoner - and guest - of the eccentric Prince Ignis Sagni-Dor. In the heart of Demonis, Marzio discovers a land unlike what he believed, and the love of a man with enough power and drive to reshape both their destinies. But what lies behind Ignis' desire for peace, and where will it lead them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This is the most up-to-date version of the story as posted on my website on June 25, 2007. There are several edits between this form and what I hope will be its publishing form. So forgive any inconsistencies, sap and grammar errors. Also, constructive criticism is always welcome. :)

## Part One - Song of the Nightingale

**Chapter One**

Sitting in his chair, Marzio listened to the continuous chatter of the other men. As usual, his suggestion would be rejected - but at least he had tried to warn them. 

"This is ridiculous," Kelan Loreh-Ven, the King's chief advisor, said. "They will not attack us now - we have more soldiers, superior weapons. Besides, they cannot possibly be aware of our arrival!" 

Marzio merely shook his head at the foolish highborn. He was certain that not only did the Demons know they had crossed the border dividing the two lands, but that the enemy also had an advantage in knowing the layout of the land. Even if the Army of Angelia would win the first few battles, that situation would change rapidly. 

"They are cowards, and their prince but a child," Kelan continued, casting him a hateful glance. "From what I hear, he's more interested in books than properly running his land. And his Supreme Commander, that _Tempesta_... women should not be given such positions! All she'll probably care about is not getting blood all over her gown!" 

These were two other things Marzio saw differently. Unlike his father, the young Prince of Demonis seemed to know very well what he was doing, even if he had no experience in a real battle. It was shown in his choice for the new Supreme Commander of Demonis - Tempesta Neri-Lokh was one of the best warriors Marzio had encountered in his life. They had both fought in the previous war, and he had seen her kill many on that occasion. By the time the battle had ended over, her armour and weapons had been sully with blood. She was a real challenge to anyone, no matter how skilled her opponent was. Demon female warriors also wore no gowns on a battlefield. 

Marzio also knew that, should they be defeated, Lord Kelan would not take any of the blame, and it would all fall on him. Being High Commander of the Angelian Army brought a lot of responsibility on one's shoulder, but nobody bothered to ask him what the best way of handling things was. They didn't even care if more than half the country didn't want another war with Demonis. 

It was sad to see King Raresh Teh-Kai of Angelia a puppet in his Court's hands; Princess Selena, King his only child and Marzio's close friend, had frequently complained about how easily her father would bow to Kelan's will. And the nobleman simply didn't stomach Marzio. The general in fact believed that Kelan had come on this expedition only to sabotage all his attempts of leading their forces towards victory. Not to mention the fact that the idea of a new war had been his, in spite of the knowledge that their country was not really prepared for another conflict with Demonis. 

But there was nothing Marzio could do about this situation at the moment. He did not have enough power to oppose the War Council's decisions, backed up by the King's agreement on the matter. Except, perhaps, asking his men to be more vigilant from now on, and being constantly prepared in case anything would happen. 

It had been nearly thirty days since they had left the capital city of Mnemon at the beginning of the month of Caldas, and here they were now, at the border dividing the two lands. A very long month, if one would ask him... but he couldn't complain. At least, the journey had been pretty much uneventful so far. That was going to change soon, of course. In crossing their own land, no sane creature could have opposed an armed party such as theirs. It had been both an honour and a difficult decision to accept the command when his King had offered it. 

Marzio rose from his chair and, excused himself and left the large tent as fast as he could. He didn't like it there, among all those vultures. He looked at the river they had left behind that morning. It was the turning point of their expedition - the border that marked the unknown territory they had entered. The final obstacle between them and the enemy forces. 

The High Commander of the Army of Angelia sighed. He looked around him, at the camp they had settled for the night. Not his choice, this one. He didn't like it one bit. He had the strange feeling their every move was being carefully watched. The enemy lands were not a suitable place for setting camp - after all, it was unknown to any Angelian soldier and he had a pretty good idea the enemy would not hesitate to attack. But the War Council had decided to cross the river and set camp in the valley. Under the circumstances, his young age and apparent lack of experience hadn't helped him much. It had been a difficult crossing, so turning back now was no option. If they were attacked, all they could do was hold their ground or escape south. 

Out of an inner sense of preservation, he had decided to settle his quarters near the water course, where exposure was less than in other places of the valley. Having friendly territory behind him was a bit of a comfort. The tents of the Lords, on the other hand, had been placed near the rocky cliffs on the north side. A bad choice, because a simple rock fall would probably prove fatal. Not that he would miss them much... But orders were orders. 

He strolled through the camp, noting the state of alertness most of his soldiers showed. They bowed as he passed, although of course it wasn't necessary. He had grown up together with most of them, the only difference being that he had the highest rank, both by birth and - now - by status. But he was not going to change his relationship with his comrades. He was many things, but not stupid. 

He kept walking, checking the positions of his men, then the guard posts and everything else he could think of. By the time he found himself standing in front of his own tent, it was nearly dusk. The sun was now setting behind the breeze-blown waters of the Mauri, and the entire valley was shrouded in a deep orange light. 

The sun's reflection in the water reminded him of an earlier time, when, still a child, he had watched the sunset with his father. Less than a month after that, his father had been killed. He had decided to live up to his memory, become a great warrior. It had been a hard path, but in the end he had succeeded. However, those days of youthful carelessness and freedom were something he had come to appreciate and miss. 

The general groaned. He couldn't let himself think about these things, not now. They were at war, and an attack would probably take place soon. All he could do was hope it wouldn't come that evening or the following day. If it did, it would prove a disaster. 

* * *

While turning his head from the now-almost-gone sun, Marzio's eyes caught a small reflection of light on the rocky wall's top. He thought he'd also seen a silhouette hidden under the trees, surveying the camp. But, before he could take a better look, it was gone. 

He wasn't exactly sure what it had been - an enemy spy perhaps? But that would mean that this spy was wearing an armour - and no decent scout would do such a task in heavy battle armour. It was a job that required freedom of movement. And though wings did provide some sort of flying ability, it wouldn't hold for a long period of time and it was particularly tiresome. Unless, of course, the enemy camp was nearby... 

He took another deep breath. He didn't want to think about _that_ alternative. It would mean they were all doomed. His own pride and sense of self-preservation was fighting these thoughts. It was probably nothing, after all. Just some leaves glowing in the last rays of light, nothing more. 

'You need a break,' he told himself. Besides, there was no way for a patrol to search the cliff for any sign of intruders. It was too steep to climb. 

He went to his own tent, where a hot meal and a bed were waiting for him. His servant helped him remove the heavy silver-plated armour he wore. He ate in silence, recalling _why_ he had refused to share a table with the Lords; he was sick of seeing their faces and listening to their arguments and preconceptions about Demonis. None of them had faced a Demon soldier in battle - the only ones they had seen had been those poor war prisoners that had been captured during the last expedition - farmers, not warriors. He laughed bitterly thinking about the surprise those abject dust bags would have on the battlefield. Provided they decided to show up at all, which he seriously doubted. 

His arm hurt a little, reminding him of his previous encounter with the enemy. Almost six years had passed; he had been a young major back then, but the memories were vivid and somewhat frightening... The battle screams, the old Demon Prince and his Supreme Commander, leading their forces against them. Tempesta watching her father fall, and slaying everyone in her way until the general's killer was lying at her feet with his head cut off. (That sight had told Marzio more about the origins of the Angelians' general fear of the Demons than any of those idiotic legends he had heard as a child.) Then the prince had been injured, and Tempesta had called the retreat. The Angelians had claimed it as their victory, and had beheaded all the dead and wounded enemies. No Demon soldier had survived - but it was the Angelians that had been truly defeated. The Angelian Army knew it, Marzio knew it, and even the King did, though he had never admitted to it. 

And what would happen now, only the Gods could know. 

Marzio finished his frugal meal and lay down on the wooden frame that was his bed. The hard mattress and pillow were not very comfortable, but he was used to them. He didn't want his soldiers to think command had changed him too much, and he tried to keep their standards, as far as it was possible. 

He closed his eyes, wondering if there was a chance to get out of this alive. If he did, he would settle down finally. Preferably away from the Court and its machinations; he longed to see the old family estate in the hills of Pythia. 

He would also get himself a decent lover. 

Of course, a man of his position would have been expected to marry and have children. But his choice of career had allowed him to choose between that and a life of celibacy. He had picked the latter, leaving the breeding part to his sister. He preferred men anyway; they were more honest than all those back-stabbing females most Angelian men considered inferior. 

That reminded him once more of the difference between the Angelians and the warrior Demons. Not only did they consider women equal to men, but they also allowed them to join the army. And, though they seldom chose this, it was well-known that women warriors were much respected. Tempesta was, again, the perfect example. 

He wondered why the woman haunted his thoughts so much. Maybe it was that, this time, they would confront as equals; as far as he was concerned, she was just as good as he was on the battlefield. And, of course, that fact should make things more interesting. 

But the Demon Supreme Commander wasn't his biggest concern. It was the one behind her, the shadow figure he knew very little about. The young Prince of Demonis. Marzio had heard numerous rumours about Prince Nicolas Sagni-Dor's son; however, none of these could be confirmed because of the lack of diplomatic relationships between Angelia and Demonis after the war. However, the mysterious Demon prince was perhaps the favourite gossip subject at the Royal Court of Angelia. 

The rumours varied from harmless to outrageous; the ladies, for example, had been appalled to hear the prince supposedly had huge bat-like wings, a bull's head covered in thick fur, and eyes that burned everything they looked upon. Marzio had merely shrugged at the exaggerations. What had interested him was the fact that the young sovereign had apparently spent many years in some hidden mountain retreat. And while courtiers had been pleased to see this as proof of the Demon's horrible appearance, Marzio had the feeling the 'retreat' was in fact none other than the Monastery of Dreak, training camp of Demonis' elite warriors. The thought was very distressing, for among the little Angelians knew about the Dreak warriors was the fact that they would die for their country and their prince, asking no questions and causing maximal damage in the process. 

This, in turn, had Marzio wonder about other things. The new prince was considered a puppet in High Priest Lavian's hands, just like King Teh-Kai was a puppet for the Angelian nobles. But if the prince had been trained as a Dreak, then this hypothesis would be false; and besides, the High Priest's strategies usually did not imply waiting for the enemy to come to you, but a quick attack as soon as the situation permitted it. Lord Lavian was one who enjoyed a blood bath, and the situation for a Demon attack had already presented itself at least twice. Nothing had happened; and since Marzio was certain that the Demons _knew_ they had crossed the river, it only meant they had a new strategist. 

The worse thing was that the Angelian general didn't know what to expect. And would he see the Prince of Demonis leading his troops in battle, like his father had before him, or would the man rather remain in Aquiline, wait for the result of the first battle and then figure out what was to be done? 

Marzio finally couldn't fight exhaustion anymore, so he closed his eyes and abandoned himself to a sleep that was not restful. 

* * *

The Demon emissary approached the Angelian camp, wondering if there was any danger that he had not prepared for. It was, of course, most foolish to expose himself in this manner. Still, strangely, he felt safe. Not that the archers posted on top of the cliffs, out of sight, had anything to do with it... 

But this was a matter of pride. And, in his particular case, some pleasure as well. If the Angelian High Commander was anything like he had been told, he would consider himself honoured to fight such an extraordinary opponent. 

_Marzio Zain-Reil._ The General was member of an ancient family, with a long history of being honest and true to their word. Facing him didn't worry the Demon too much; it was the others he had to watch out for - the Lords of the War Council. The description he had been given of that pack of hungry wolves reminded him too much of the Court in Aquiline. 

Naturally, General Neri-Lokh had been against this. She didn't want him there at all. She feared for his safety. But he had managed to calm her down somehow, and had promised to be extra-careful. 

The camp was getting closer. Time for the show to begin. 

He unfolded the yellow emissary's flag and waved it, being careful to be just out of the range of Angelian archers. Not that he really expected them all to be awake - it was still early in the morning. 

His signal was answered promptly, so he approached the camp. He was met half-way by a squad of riders; the General's guards? He briefly spoke to their leader, a young and promising-looking captain, being determined not to reveal anything more than his mission required. Long years of training had taught him to be suspicious of everybody, friend or foe alike. Finally, he was granted safe passage to the camp and back. This was a good sign, though he expected an attack anyway. Still, he didn't want to think too much about it. Having your head spinning was not the best approach when negotiation was involved. 

He was escorted through the narrow path between the rows of tents (it had seemed larger from up the cliff, he learned), and he tried to memorize all he could. He noted the Lords' quarters were raised really close to the massive rock wall. That could be used as an advantage, if necessary. The General's tent, though, was located on the bank of the river. Much easier to protect. 

Dark expressions accompanied him on his route. He understood these men - they had no desire to come here to die. To them, his walking around _alive_ was unthinkable. 

Finally, they reached their destination. The guards posted themselves around him when he dismounted, swords drawn. He didn't let them intimidate him. He was used to being underestimated; now, though the situation was a complete opposite, things went exactly the same. He wondered if General Zain-Reil would trust him enough to talk to him in private. 

* * *

During breakfast, Marzio received most unusual news. He had partly expected the Demons to send some scouts, or perhaps an emissary party. But here he was, being told that an emissary from the Prince of Demonis requested an audience, and that the man had come _alone_. Marzio was a bit shocked to hear there was no sign of any other Demons for at least a mile away. 

Still debating if this man was either a fool or the bravest warrior he had ever met, Marzio pulled on his uniform, considering the armour unnecessary, and stepped out of his tent just in time to see Lord Kelan approach. 'What's he doing up so early in the morning?' he wondered. He decided to ignore the man for now and take a better look at the enemy emissary instead. 

From what he could tell, the Demon was lean and tall, and not extremely muscular. His built seemed more that of an athlete than of a professional fighter, but his pose suggested that he was in the right place and knew exactly what he was doing. He wore the red uniform and golden armour of the Prince's Personal Guard; his black wings were folded back, blending with the dark cloak on his shoulders, feathered ends nearly touching the bare ground at their feet. A golden helmet covered the officer's face, and Marzio could barely make out the man's eyes. They were dark and burning, the flames inside them almost making him back up a step or two. 

Almost. 

It was a bit unnerving, the way this man stood in front of them, defenceless against an entire army, yet so confident and proud. He had already made a very good impression on both Marzio and the guards; they all admired such self-control and bravery. 

Kelan, on the other hand, seemed to find things quite different. He stepped forward and addressed the Demon on a tone that plainly showed his antipathy, "Well, and what is this? A spy in our camp? What do you think you're doing here, you scum?" 

The enemy officer - for he was clearly an officer, one didn't send a lesser soldier on such errands - wisely chose not to answer the older nobleman's provocation and looked away. Receiving no answer, and thus considering himself ignored, the chief advisor carried on, "Maybe we should just kill you and send your head back to that coward prince of yours. That would teach you your place, Demon trash." 

A disgusted sound was the only reply. But, this time, the officer's eyes met Kelan's, and the old man drew back several steps, pale and terrified. Then the eyes fixed on Marzio, and the revulsion and hatred he could plainly see seemed to gradually change into something else. What it was, he could not say. 

The Demon addressed Marzio directly, in a soft yet firm voice that said he was used to command. "I am here on behalf of the Prince of Demonis. I carry a message for the High Commander of the Angelian Army. Will he receive me in private?" 

Gaining a little confidence of his own, Marzio stepped forward and addressed the stranger in the same courteous manner the man had used. "I am General Zain-Reil. I will receive the emissary of the Prince, provided he leaves his weapons out here. They will be returned to him on his departure." 

There was some slight amusement in the officer's eyes. A nod was his answer; with slow and gracious movements, the man disarmed himself, handing his sword and dagger to an Angelian guard positioned nearby. He then followed Marzio inside the tent, and more guards were posted outside. The general didn't want any unpleasant visitors, especially after seeing the look on Kelan's face when he had accepted. 

* * *

Once inside the tent, Marzio became even more curious about his guest. The Demon scrutinized the environment, nodding in approval several times, which pleased the Angelian to a certain extent. 

Marzio took his place behind the table, which had been cleaned of his earlier meal's remains, and invited the emissary to have a seat across from him. Nodding his acceptance, the officer proceeded to remove his helmet, finally uncovering his face. 

The sight that met his eyes was breathtaking. From the way the man had handled himself outside Marzio had thought he would be at least of middle age; but by the looks of it, he was about five years younger than Marzio himself. And he was beautiful, in a male sort of way, with a smooth face, a small nose and a gracious mouth. His eyes were unusual, deep burgundy in colour and burning in his skull like pools of ruby stone, holding much more knowledge than one would expect at such a young age. But most amazing were the pale skin and his sleek reddish hair, which probably fell to the man's waist but had been braided in order to be hidden under the helmet, loose strands framing the fetching face. It seemed as frail and delicate as a spider's web, and all Marzio wanted to do was reach out and touch it. 

Marzio was left speechless, and with the notion that, had they not been enemies, he would have taken this young officer to bed without a second thought. 

He had probably been staring for quite a while when the Demon smiled briefly in complicity. "The sight pleases you, I take it?" he said, his soft tenor filled with more than a hint of humour. 

The general coughed, trying to hide his discomfort at being caught staring shamelessly. "I did not mean to offend you," he offered. "I was merely thinking it is most unusual for a young man like you to be sent on such dangerous duties." 

A flash through the claret eyes made Marzio realize that the Demon had probably taken greater offence in those words than in his stare, and he wanted to take them back. But before he could open his mouth again, the man spoke, "I can assure you, General, my rank in the Army is high enough. I am fully competent to be here today." His gaze softened somewhat, and he shrugged. "It is not your custom, I suppose." 

'Blaming it on cultural differences? Is he trying to avoid a quarrel?' Marzio asked himself as his unexpected guest sat down in the chair across the table, and tilted his head to the left, returning the intense study he had been the subject of. Then, "May I proceed with my task?" 

Marzio found himself more and more amazed by the strange warrior. "Of course. But first allow me to apologize for any offence Lord Kelan's words may have brought to you. He was not exactly a diplomat." 

"It is not your place to apologize, General. I believe his lordship can do it himself, if he really wishes to." The elegant face then turned into a mask, showing no emotion whatsoever while he began to deliver the message. "My Lord Prince sends you his greetings. In spite of this most unexpected visit," and way in which he said it let Marzio understand it was not at all _that_ unexpected, "His Highness is pleased to see that his neighbours have not forgotten our land. I am here to deliver a warning. Should you proceed any further without authorization, the conflict between our two armed parties will be imminent." 

It was just as Marzio had feared. Not only had their arrival been anticipated, but also the battle had been carefully prepared in advance. There was to be no sign when the attack would come, and he doubted the emissary would reveal such information, even under torture. He gasped, and suddenly felt the pressing desire to be somewhere else. Home was his first choice on the list. 

He thought again of the young officer's face as he had spoken. No sign of emotion except in his eyes, which were boiling with the same fire Marzio could not identify. 

"Am I to deliver a reply?" the young man asked, pulling him out of his musings. 

The general leaned back in his chair. "I must consult with the War Council before I can give one," he said pensively. "But my assumption is that the answer will be no." 

It was the young man's time to take a deep breath. He suddenly seemed sad, and his eyes met Marzio's, fixing him in his chair. "Even if you are the High Commander, you really don't have much to say in the matter, do you?" 

Marzio shook his head. "It is not my call. His Majesty ordered the attack, and I obey his will and that of the War Council. My hands are tied." The disappointment in Marzio's own voice made it clearly understood that he did not wish this war. 

And the Demon returned his concern. "I feared it was so the moment I saw the looks on your soldiers' faces. And there is no way to stop the blood shed." 

Marzio was getting unsettling thoughts. Perhaps the Demons were just as tired of the continuous fighting as the Angelians were. Perhaps the Prince of Demonis wanted peace, and his subjects agreed on the matter. A dozen suppositions spun in his head, and he closed his eyes trying to maintain whatever measure of control he had left. 

He opened his eyes to find the Demon emissary looking at him in a very disturbing manner. Only now did he realize how much influence the man's simple presence had had on him. The prince had chosen his emissary well. The young officer's natural charisma couldn't have passed unnoticed, and Marzio admired his determination to accomplish his mission properly. 'Dreak,' Marzio's mind screamed. He was Dreak, pure and simple. A beautiful man turned into a lethal weapon. 

It occurred to him the officer might be waiting for an answer. But he wasn't, not really. Instead, he spoke again, and the words surprised the general. "Then I can only hope you and I will not meet face to face on the battlefield." Another barely visible smile flew on the lush lips. "Finding a good leader for the army is a hard task, and you seem to fit the part just fine. It would be a shame to kill such a valuable man." There was respect in the Demon's voice, and it meant a great deal to Marzio, coming from an enemy officer. Then the emissary added teasingly, "Under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed having a _different_ type of discussion with you." 

His tone of voice implied the discussion he had in mind was not exactly of a very ethical kind, and it was confirmed when the man smiled impishly. "I believe now comes the part where you place me under arrest and kill me?" 

That idea suddenly became inconceivable to Marzio. "No, I... You can safely go back to your prince and tell him... tell him that though I don't know the Council's decision yet, I can only assume there will be war." 

"I understand." The young Demon stood up graciously and approached him. He pulled out something from under his now empty sword sheath and handed it to Marzio. It was a very sharp dagger, with a curious design on its hilt. "And I suggest you take better care, General. You never know where the blow may come from. Your guards didn't even bother to check my garments for a hidden weapon when I came in." Then he picked up his helmet, placed it on his head and left the tent without further comment. 

Marzio threw the dagger on the bed and followed him shortly. Security had to be enforced, he decided. 

As he got outside he saw the officer mount his black stallion. He ordered his Second-in-Command to make sure the Demon would make it safely past their lines. Then, he realized he didn't even know the man's name. 

"Excuse me, Meris. One more thing." 

Hearing the honorary title given to Dreak warriors, the helmeted face turned to face the general. Marzio had been right, then. 

"Your name, if I might ask," he said. 

The helmet muffled the tender voice, but the words came out clearly. "The name is Ignis." Then the Demon left in a cloud of dust, escorted by Ceni and his guards.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ignis returned to their camp at a loss. Naturally, he'd already been prepared for this answer. But finding himself in front of a fight that he could no longer hope to prevent was no easy thing, especially for him. He had been trained for such occasions, yet the gloom of the event had taken hold of him. 

He made sure no Angelian rider followed him on his way back. He tried to go over the details of the battle that was meant to happen later that day, but he found he could not focus. In fact, the only thing that came to his mind was the enemy general. 

Rumours had been true. He was in his prime, no more than thirty in Ignis' opinion. Yet, he had seemed a man of experience in various domains, and great intelligence. He had even managed to guess the fact he was Dreak. The mistrust of his king was uncalled for. 

Ignis recalled the general's well-built body, made obvious by the fact he hadn't worn any armour during their meeting. He was slightly shorter than Ignis, still his conduct inspired respect and even admiration. But what astonished him most was the man's attitude. It was open and friendly, and he had encountered no problem in reading his emotions by looking at the expressions on his face. The large green eyes held no secret, and became of a darker shade when something seemed to trouble the general. The generous mouth was more then seductive, and Ignis had had a hard time trying not to jump up and kiss the man. The aquiline nose, high brow and cheekbones only added to the man's charm. 

And that luxuriant golden mane falling to the general's shoulders... Ignis had rarely seen blond hair before, his people being usually dark in both locks and complexion. There were exceptions, himself included, but never before had he seen that golden colour. Needless to say, the result had been more than pleasing. 

He reached the camp hidden in the woods in no time at all, dismounted and steered his horse towards his tent, aware his own general was waiting for the news he carried. He gave the reins to his young attendant, and stepped through the heavy silk curtain serving as a door. 

He was still deep in thought, when a cheerful voice met him. "We're going to fight them, right?" 

He lifted his head to see Tempesta Neri-Lokh leaning on the wooden table. Her dark uniform and hair made her almost invisible in the shadows. He confirmed, but with no pleasure at all. 

The woman frowned. She left her place and approached, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked. Her dark eyes flashed. "If those bastards dared hurt you..." 

"I'm alright," he cut her out. "But I had still hoped it would not go this far." 

She looked up at him. "Ignis, there's nothing else we can do. Should we fail to protect our land, there will be nothing else left for us. We will be little more than slaves. Is that what you want?" 

It was his turn to frown. He may have been young, but a strong sense of preserving his country had been inspirited in him since a tender age. His father had been particularly strict on the mater. 

He shook his head. "Of course it's not! I'm just a bit tired, that's all. I'm going to lie down for a while." 

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked again, touching her other hand to his forehead. 

"I'm fine." 

It wasn't true. He was anything _but_ fine. The massacre that would follow, the thought of killing those who were actually their brothers, even if they didn't admit to it... The place would be soaked with blood for more than a generation. So many lives wasted... 

But it wasn't just that, was it? Ignis would have a hard time accepting what the real reason was. 

Someone shook him out of his thoughts. It was, of course, Tempesta, who looked really worried now. She pulled him closer, starting to take off his armour. "Why won't you tell me what's troubling you?" 

He sighed. There was no way to get out of it. Except if he ordered her to leave; but that would assure her he was indeed hiding something, and she would resent him for weeks to come. 

Ignis blushed. "It's General Zain-Reil... I think I like him." 

"Like him?" Tempesta eyed him, and then chuckled. "Well, I suppose you can like him all you want, as long as you keep in mind his position." Her gaze darkened when she saw Ignis blush even deeper. "Ignis, please say you are not trying to tell me you are attracted to the Angelian High Commander." 

Finding himself at a loss for words, Ignis simply nodded, keeping his eyes downcast as if he were guilty of some catastrophe he couldn't control. 

Tempesta drew in a deep breath, hoping to find enough patience in dealing with this new complication. "You can't be serious! He's our enemy, remember?" 

" _Of course_ I remember. But I think there's so much more to him than that. It would be a pity to have him killed. He looks like a man of honour." 

"He would have _us_ killed," she tried again. His armour finally came off, and he felt relieved. 

"No he wouldn't. He made it clear his hands were tied. Apparently, the War Council takes all the decisions, and he merely follows their orders," he told her. "And their leader strikes me as a complete bastard. Lord Kelan was the name, if I remember well." 

"Kelan Loreh-Ven, the Angelian king's chief advisor. I should have known he was behind this," Tempesta murmured, but he managed to hear the hateful tone in her voice as she spoke those words. 

"Don't worry, I'm sure they won't see what's coming until it's too late. Now go see if everything's ready. And wake me up when it's time." 

She nodded and bowed slightly - court etiquette, he noted; though they were the best of friends and he cared little for such things. Ignis resented the gesture a little, because it reminded him of his position. 

Tempesta withdrew, but turned on her tracks and peaked back in through the curtain. "Is this attraction mutual, at least?" 

_Mutual?_ He stared at her, caught off guard. He thought about it a little, then shot her his most cruel smile. "By the looks of it... I would say yes, very much so." 

She laughed as she left the tent, for good this time. Ignis tossed himself on the plush pillows serving him as a bed and dozed off soon after. 

* * *

Marzio stared as the Demon made his way across their lines. He thought of the huge risks that the man had taken to make sure his sovereign's message had been delivered. He might have been killed. Or worse. 

'Such bravery,' he told himself. 'Yet he values life like no one I've ever met. A strange person, this young Dreak.' 

Just then, his Second-in-Command and the small escort returned to report his orders had been carried out to the letter. No Angelian scout had followed the enemy emissary. 

The general returned to the relative privacy of his tent, beckoning for Ceni to follow him. He settled himself in his chair again, feeling a little relieved. "And what did _you_ think of him?" he asked. 

"An exceptional man," Captain Ceni Mah-Kel replied. "He didn't even flinch while waiting for you to come greet him outside. Highborn, probably; and he certainly has what it takes to command. Around 40, I suppose..." 

"More like 25," Marzio corrected his friend, taking delight in having him stare at him in disbelief. "Yes, my friend, he is that young. I wish I could say it comes as a surprise, but with the Demons being the warrior people that they are..." 

"But Marzio," Ceni protested, "I am not lying when I tell you this - had he given me an order, I would have followed it without a second thought." 

The general nodded. "I know; I felt the same way. So, what shall we do now? We know that the Demons know our exact location, and I am sure they are watching our every move." He rubbed his temples pensively. "Maybe now the _Glorious_ War Council will think twice before rejecting my suggestions." He knew he had to inform them of the situation, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

"At least now you can start taking your part more seriously," Ceni told him, leaning on the table. 

"And exactly what is that supposed to mean?" Marzio shot back. 

"The men are loyal to you, not the Council. You're the High Commander - act like it!" 

"Learn from your enemy," Marzio whispered. "Maybe it's time to give Kelan a lesson in military procedures," he spoke out loud, looking his Second-in-Command in the eyes. "Tell the men to break camp and prepare for battle. We may not know when the Demons will attack, but we might as well be ready to greet them properly when they do. And my guess is it will happen soon." 

"Is that what the emissary told you?" 

He smiled. "Among other things." He kept to himself the attraction he had felt for the Demon officer, and hoped it did not show in his voice when he spoke of the man. Perhaps it wouldn't if he focused on the obvious. "They don't want this fight any more then we do, Ceni. He was so sad about it, even if it meant showing me this weakness." 

"Interesting," the captain told him. "I'm off then. Kelan will probably show up in a couple of minutes, to find out what the Prince of Demonis had to say about us invading his country. You should've seen the look on his face after you entered the tent. I thought he would choke on the spot." 

"How sad he didn't," Marzio muttered. "Make sure everybody's ready," he added in a strong voice. "As of this moment, we are officially at war." 

Ceni took his leave and the High Commander was left alone with his thoughts. He wondered who the Demon was, and what his position in the army was. If one was to trust the young man's words, then it would be pretty high. That could only mean he had started training at an early age, and since they would not entrust just about anybody with such a perilous mission he probably was a pretty good warrior... And he was Dreak, which of course changed everything. Marzio felt the Goddess Seleh favoured him that day - no person he knew of had had the chance to meet a Dreak face to face and live to tell the tale. 

But what could Marzio make of the Demon's latter comment? Why would the man want to let him live? He was, after all, the enemy. 'A respected enemy,' he noted with just a hint of delight. The Demons held him in some regard, probably even feared him a little. It was an advantage he would use. 

_Meris Ignis_. Marzio would have liked to meet him again, even if it was on the battlefield. He would make an honourable opponent, at least... 

The thought made him remember the dagger the young man had given him. He lunged and picked it up from the hard mattress. He tested the steel blade with his forefinger - it was razor-sharp and drew blood. Marzio flinched. Had the Dreak sent to assassinate him, he would probably be long dead by now. 

He wrapped the blade in his handkerchief and curiously studied the design on the hilt. It was of very fine craftsmanship, and made of ebony wood. Very expensive. He noted with surprise it represented a human shape, with carefully sculptured feathered wings folding around it protectively. And, where blade met hilt, the golden crest of the Royal Family of Demonis. 

Marzio's heart skipped a beat as a thought occurred to him. What if Ignis was...? 

'Don't be ridiculous! There's no way the Prince would have come in person; it would be a most irresponsible act. And he has not given any signs of being a fool thus far,' he tried to calm himself. Naturally, Ignis' demeanour, impeccable manners and artful speech had marked him as a man of noble origins from the moment Marzio had lay eyes on him. But that didn't necessarily mean he was in any way related to the House of Sagni-Dor, let alone being the Prince of Demonis himself. 

'They're probably just trying to scare us,' the general concluded. The Prince gave him the dagger, as some sort of present for me. He wouldn't bother to deliver it himself. It would be insane to try something like this. 

'Insane, but when no one knows your name or what you look like...' 

The general closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath and tried to banish this sudden incertitude from his mind, and find of a suitable way to break the 'good' news to the Lords of the Council. 

* * *

_The mists surrounding him parted to reveal a large doorframe. He stepped into the darkness on the other side._

_The old woman was there, as usual. Her long white hair and piercing teal eyes were the only things he could make out in the darkness. She spoke, unsurprisingly straightforward, her voice sending chills down his spine._

_"You have met someone of great importance today. Someone who will play a great role in your future. Both your people and his endanger his life. But his part is not over yet." She looked him in the eyes. "Did I ever misguide you, child?" He shook his head in denial. "Then take my word. Protect him. He must not die today, do you understand? If he does, your destiny will not be accomplished. War and terror will reign again for thousand years."_

* * *

All the four Angelian lords were in the council tent, seated at their ornate table on their comfortable settees. Marzio noted scornfully their furniture and wardrobe probably took up three entire transport wagons, and yet the things had no real utility. A waste of storage space. 

"How could you let him get away?" Kelan yelled at Marzio the minute he entered. His face was red with fury, his eyes swelled and his gestures chaotic. "Do you realize how much information we could have got from him? Their positions, their contingent, their strategies!" He kept gesticulating as the general fought back a headache. It wasn't even noon yet. 

Marzio chose not to take the bait. He posted himself in front of the man and said in a calm and controlled voice, "If you keep shouting, you'll never learn what he had to say to me." 

"To _you_? You're nothing here! You only carry out our orders. _We_ take the important decisions." 

Marzio answered with an ironic smile on his lips, "You might want to remind the men that, Lord Kelan. Or, better, why don't you order them into battle yourself?" 

Kelan paled. He had never been in the army, and was completely unaccustomed to military hierarchy and procedures. The only reason he was there was because his wife was the King's mistress. At her husband's suggestion, of course. 

Realizing he was gaining ground, Marzio delivered the second blow. "Were you informed we're breaking camp?" 

"I believe your Second-in-Command mentioned it to us," Lord Angus told him. "However, we have not discussed it and..." 

"... and you have more important things to do with your time." The general smiled. 'All right, time for the breaking news.' "It appears our invasion has been anticipated. The Demons know why we are here. Prince Sagni-Dor kindly informs us that, should we not decide to retreat, they will attack us." 

Lord Angus stared at him in disbelief. The man was not stupid, and he was by far the most open-minded of the four. Kelan and the other two were an entirely different story, however. 

The chief advisor snorted. "If you're so well-informed, tell us, when will they do it? Or did that bastard forget to mention it, perchance?" 

"I believe the exact word he used was 'imminent'. So I suggest you start packing. Unless of course, you want to stay behind and allow yourselves to be captured." 

The Lords Angus and Gettik scrambled on their feet and left the tent immediately. Lord Elssi lingered for a short while, but, after seeing the looks on the other two's faces, he decided to take his leave as well. 

Kelan kept staring at Marzio, rage getting hold of the older man. "You... You... _idiot_!" he screamed. "How dare you order me around?! Do you have any idea who I am?" 

"You mean you ever gave me a chance to forget?" Marzio shot back. 

"I give orders; you follow them. You had no authority to receive that Demon, or allow him to go back and inform his compatriots of our positions. Who do you think you are, to disobey your King's orders?" 

" _Your_ orders, not the King's. You ask who I am. I am the _High Commander of the Army_. I decide what is best for the safety of my men. I also decide our actions during war." Marzio was getting angry himself, and shot all the venom he had swallowed back into the man's face. "You, on the other hand, seem determined to lead us all to a certain death. You have no knowledge of the art of war, and of the rules one must follow. This is not the King's Court, where everybody tries to stab everybody else behind their backs! This is a battlefield. And everybody must act in consequence." 

If the old man had anything to say, he was too surprised to do it. Eyes wide, he stared open-mouthed at the General, not believing what he was hearing. Marzio was not a violent man and did not lose his temper very easily; thus far he had put up with Kelan's pretences in order to be left alone to do his job properly. However, he was not about to stand by and watch his men getting slaughtered because of an old bastard's desire to look good in the eyes of King Teh-Kai. 

"The Demons were aware of our positions from the moment we crossed the border. And they are damned well prepared to greet us properly. I, for one, am not planning on just standing there and waiting for them to butcher us. And the next time you're planning on insulting a Royal Emissary the way you did this morning, you might want to keep in mind you're thus offending the Prince of Demonis himself. That affront will not go unpunished." 

Kelan still glared at Marzio, his body trembling with rage. He finally made for the entrance, but not before shooting the general a hateful glance. "Nor will yours, I can assure you." Then he left the tent abruptly. 

Marzio leaned on the desk frame and took his head in one hand. He took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, inner tranquillity returned to him. 

"I'm impressed." Ceni's voice was full of reverence. He stood at the entrance, looking calmly at Marzio. 

The general smiled ruefully. "How long have you been standing there?" 

"Since Lord Angus asked me to make sure you won't hurt anybody. He looked scared, too. I can see why." 

He nodded. "You heard it, then." 

"Me and half the army." The captain seemed genuinely amused. "But I must admit it was a very original way of informing the Lords we're leaving this place." 

Marzio laughed. "Just as soon as they finish packing, of course. Is everything in good order?" He stood up and made for the opening of the large tent. 

"As good as it can be, considering the haste." He followed his commander outside. "The Demon wouldn't have betrayed his people, would he?" 

Marzio shook his head. "Not even under torture. It's how they are trained." Suddenly, something came back to him. He stopped and turned around to face the younger man. "Ceni, can you tell me how exactly was he able to sneak a dagger into my tent?" 

The captain was dumbfounded. "A dagger?!" 

Marzio shrugged and smiled. "Make sure that doesn't happen again." He left it at that, although he knew it was not that easy for his Second-in-Command. The High Commander's security was his task, after all. 

The sea of tents had been replaced by a myriad of agitated soldiers and servants. His own tent had been dismantled, and his battle horse saddled. Ceni's mount stood near, ready as well. 

His friend was agitated, and somewhat ashamed. He waited patiently for the man to finally say what was on his tongue. 

"General..." Ceni finally tried. "I am terribly sorry. It was my mistake. I take full responsibility." 

He nodded. "I don't think punishing you or your men will be a good idea, under the circumstances." Earlier, he had replaced his own dagger with the one the Demon had given him. It was a practical thing to do, because the thing was sharper than any weapon he had used before. He took it out of now, and handed it to Ceni. "What do you make of the crest?" 

Ceni studied it carefully, then looked back at Marzio. "The Royal House of Demonis. The Demon didn't try to use this, I hope!" 

"No, it was more like a gift." A faint smile crossed his lips. "Do you think it could have been _him_?" 

The officer gazed at him. "You think their Prince risked his life to come and talk to you in person? Marzio..." 

"Crazy, I know." He shrugged. "It was just a hypothesis. We'll probably find out soon, anyway. I have no doubt they will attack us as soon as the opportunity presents itself." 

"Depending on how fast the emissary gets back to their camp. Any idea on the strategy they might employ?" 

Marzio had long considered it, and had come to the only evident conclusion. "If they try it today, they will most likely try to block our way south. Unfortunately, we don't know how many they will be, or where their main effectives are stationed. They might have expected us to cross the Mauri further up- or down-river, and that would offer us some advantage until we find out what they're playing at. At any rate, right now we have to move fast and get out of this place and onto open plain as long as we still can." 

* * *

Ignis awoke with a sharp cry. He felt a hand on his shoulder and hastily pushed it way. He looked around him in panic. 

"Ignis!" Tempesta exclaimed. She gripped his arm with both hands, in reassurance. "It's just me. You have nothing to worry about." 

He sighed and put his palm over hers, holding on tight. He was still a little dizzy. "Don't do this again. You scared the hell out of me." 

"You were having another nightmare, and started babbling nonsense. What was I supposed to do, stand by and watch?" Tempesta retorted. "Besides, you're the one who asked me to wake you up when we're ready to go." 

Relaxing a little, he stood up refusing her help and looked around for his armour. Like any warrior, he preferred a simple, unadorned one to the one his rank forced him to wear during ceremonies. That one weighed considerably more, and hindered his movements. Not to mention it would make him a certain mark in the eyes of the enemy. 

Ignis pondered whether his attendant was anywhere near by. Just then, the boy showed up with his shield and sword, ready to help him prepare for battle. As he did, Ignis found it fit to ask his friend what was happening in the Angelian camp. 

"Last time I heard, they were still packing," she laughed. "Of course, we cannot let them leave the party like this. Captain Alisi-Feit's regiment is ready to take its positions. The cavalry already did, and are impatiently waiting for the order to attack." 

"And why, pray I tell, aren't you with them yet?" Ignis said looking at her while his attendant buckled up his breastplate. 

She smiled again. "Just giving your lordship a last word of advice?!" 

"I swear, you're worse than my mother ever was!" he growled. There were times when Tempesta could be extremely annoying. 

"Yes, but she never had to make sure you wouldn't get killed. Or deal with any other details of her son's personality." 

He braced his sword and picked up the polished helmet. "Alright, I shall mercifully spare you any further 'details' and say we can go now." He left the tent and jumped on his stallion. 

She mounted as well, looking really intimidating in the saddle, all geared up and ready to fight her way out of hell if necessary. "You ready?" she asked. 

"As ready as I will ever be," he replied. "Let's go. And remember, my dear General: Marzio Zain-Reil is not to be killed. He's much more valuable alive." He urged his horse on. 

"Alive and naked and in your bed!" she shouted after him. 

Ignis managed to laugh, for the last time before the great battle that would decide all their future. The Sorceress had been right again. It _was_ his destiny.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Khest!" The Angelian High Commander cursed, looking at the infantry units taking position at the entrance of the valley. "Imminent indeed." 

He noted with relief the Demons were outnumbered by his own troops. But was that really an advantage? At any rate, their only retreat route was now blocked, and they would have to fight to get out of the valley. 

He ordered his cavalry to split into two. They had to act fast, less the enemy received reinforcements. 

"They want to keep us in here until the rest of their troops arrive," said Ceni, leading his horse towards Marzio. "We should be able to break through fairly easily, though." 

The general frowned. "I don't know... I really don't know. Maybe they have something else in mind..." 

But what could that be? Demonis' armed forces couldn't be camped anywhere near. All he could see were rocks and trees. No river valley, no clearings, just thick forest surrounding them. 

"Let us suppose their emissary was part of the vanguard. They send word for the rest of the troops to come, and they try to block us in here until their arrival," Marzio told his Second-in-Command. "In this case, all we need to do is break the blockade, and we may buy ourselves enough time to come up with a decent retreat plan." 

Captain Mah-Kel agreed. "Should we deploy the cavalry, then?" 

"Absolutely not! The longer we delay fighting at full potential, the better. Besides, there is not enough space. Infantry can handle this much easier. We keep the cavalry for the battles to come." 

And on they went. Marzio ordered the cavalry to advance in line with the infantry, and later retreat and wait until the way was safer for them. He tried to estimate how many enemy soldiers were blocking their path, and came up with the conclusion it could not possibly be more than a division. Still, he was sure they were very well prepared and willing to die defending their positions. 

"Don't take unnecessary risks!" he shouted, knowing that the squad leaders would make sure his order reached everybody. "The only thing we must do is break through their lines. There is no reason to butcher our way out!" 

"They will not give up easily," Ceni warned, riding beside him. The young captain seemed excited at the prospect. He had never taken part in a real battle before. Marzio had. He did not remember it keenly. 

"Try and relax," he told the younger man. "You have never fought the Demons before. It will be very different from what you expect." 

"In training..." 

"Forget the damned training! Your opponent was not really after your head then!" He sighed. He was getting anxious himself. "Demon soldiers are often full of unexpected surprises. Try and keep your mind clear of hatred, captain. After all, they are merely defending what is theirs." 

Ceni looked at him, confused. He just smiled and turned his horse, riding off at the back of the lines. The Lords and their provision wagons were there, guarded by a squadron of riders. 

"As soon as infantry makes the way clear, I want you to get through as quickly as possible," he ordered the chief sergeant. "Pay no attention to what the Lords say, tie them up if they won't come willingly, but get on the other side, understood?" 

"Yes, General!" 

He returned to his prior position, not too close to the first line but close enough to supervise their march. The cavalry was still flanking the rest of the troops, but as they slowly advanced it remained further back, making place for the footmen, archers and lancers. Their enemy made no move to retreat; on the contrary, they were keeping impossible still. 

'There is no way they are going to let us pass through,' Marzio thought. They were close now, less then 1000 feet. If he tried a little, he could even determine their leader's position by his uniform. 

He pulled out his farseer and took a better look at what lay ahead. 

He had been right. One regiment of infantry. Not heavily equipped, but that was what worried him. Their movements would be easier than those of the Angelians, not being hindered by any armour or heavy weaponry. No sight of provisions anywhere, which indicated they either expected to die, or that the rest of the Demon army was not as far away as Marzio had hoped. 

He looked more attentively. Near the last line, a couple of riders could be seen. The regiment commander and his aides. He thought he saw the uniform of the Prince's Guard, and his heart sank. The man could very well be Ignis. 

Damn the liking he had taken on the officer! By Seleh, he was the enemy! 

He gave Ceni the farseer. "Look at the officer further back. Recognize the uniform?" 

"Prince's Guard. But it's not the same one we saw this morning." 

The words offered him some relief. "What makes you so sure, captain?" 

"I saw him on horseback when he came. Though both horses are black, this Demon has a different pose. And his armour is more adorned, which makes him higher in rank." 

Marzio took the farseer and put it back in its case, not being able to suppress a relieved sigh. "Someone he trusts - Captain of the Guard, perhaps?" he suggested. "And if his Personal Guard is here, then probably the Prince is around as well. Did I tell you his emissary was a Dreak?" Ceni shook his head. "Well, it probably slipped my mind. But think of it, Ceni - _a Dreak_!" 

"No wonder he was so proud. I heard that they are trained in such a way there are no feelings left in them safe for blind devotion to their sovereign." 

Marzio shook his head. "No, Ceni; they are merely elite warriors. They have feelings just like the rest of us." Perhaps more, if one was to judge by what Marzio had seen in Ignis. "It is true, they will fight to the death. But that doesn't mean that they feel no mercy, or perhaps pity for those they kill. Meris Ignis seemed... disturbed by the prospect of a battle." 

But they were really close, now. In fact, they were close enough to begin the attack. He pulled out his sword, and raised it above his head. When his hand fell, the Angelians gave one cry of battle and threw themselves upon the enemy. 

* * *

Well hidden by the forest's thicket, the Demon cavalry observed the advance of the Angelian army. All was deadly quiet, and Tempesta knew it was the calm before the battle. May Drako hold them in his favour today! 

At her left Ignis stood stiff on the back of his war stallion, kneading the leather reins through his gloved fingers. 

"A little nervous, are we?" she whispered, for his ears alone. It was his first battle, after all. 

"You know where I stand. I would not be here otherwise." The helmet covered his face, and she could not make out his expression. But, judging by his voice, he was really determined to go through with this. 

In the valley below, the Angelian cavalry made way for the infantry to advance. Just like he had predicted. She wondered if he was by any chance able to read people's minds. Gods knowing, he sometimes acted like he actually _did_. 

"I hope you were right. If not, we will lose the element of surprise." 

"Don't worry," he replied, remaining motionless safe for his hands. "General Zain-Reil will not risk the lives of his men in vain. He knows breaking a path through our lines is his only way out. No use risking his men's lives in what looks like a minor battle." 

The way in which he pronounced the last few words made her realize he too was aware of the outcome. Yet he had not seemed to be... 

'There you go, underestimating him again!' She was used to it, by now. People frequently underestimated Ignis. It was not hard, with his innocent expression and that amazed look in his eyes. He made you easily forget who he was. Even easier to forget he probably was the best warrior in the land. 

But he was not all-powerful. He was, in fact, desperate for company, even if he would have never admitted to it. He had been alone for far too long, and had gone through a lot of pain in the past five years. He needed support and friendship. And love, too, although she doubted it would be that easy for him to love again. 

"Ready?" It had gone as planned, and the battle had begun in the valley. Captain Alisi-Feit was not taking any chances. Good. 

She pulled out her sword and nodded. "When you are." 

He signalled the men to begin the attack. That day was not going to be easy to forget. 

* * *

It was working! Instead of trying to kill everyone on sight, all they had to do was break a path through the enemy lines, and keep it open for as long as the rest of the troops needed to get safely on the other side. The men fought hard and gained ground, and they advanced slowly but securely. The carts were slowly advancing, and the cavalry had yet to regroup. If things kept going this way, they would be through in less than one hour. 

But something was not quite right. The Demons seemed to fight just as much as it was necessary to keep their current positions. They were not really stopping them, more like drawing out of the way slowly, then regrouping and striking again. What kind of tactic was this? 

The officers he had seen before too were avoiding direct confrontation. They remained back, as if they were expecting some signal to engage in battle themselves. The Demons were too calm and too sure on their positions. There was more to this then it seemed. More... but what was it that the Angelians did not know? 

Ceni noticed this too. "They're still not planning on fighting back. There is something that does not fit in. We are almost through. Are they not supposed to stand their ground and do their best to keep us from advancing?" 

"Yes, they are. That is the general strategy." Unless... By the Gods! "Unless they were planning an attack from one of the flanks. Ceni, quickly, order the cavalry to engage in battle as well. We must break their lines, _now_!" 

But, as he was saying this, a feral cry was heard from their back, accompanied by clatter of hoofs. He turned to see waves of Demon horsemen flowing down from the forests at their back, in a wild cavalcade. 

Taken by surprise, the Angelians had little time to come to their senses. Before the shock passed, the Demon infantry was upon them as well. And these men they could see now were not the same ones that had been retreating in front of them. They had transformed into something furious and fearless, cutting their way through the Angelians like they would have done this every day of their life. 

Marzio managed to fight back the wave of panic that had hit him at first, and started shouting his orders to those that could still hear him. They would not make it through without major losses, but they had to. Unfortunately, none of his men seemed to hear him through the wild cries and the uproar that was building all around. His voice was swallowed by the other sounds. Metal hitting metal; cries of pain and of victory; horses neighing, frightened by the battle. No way to get to Ceni either. He lost the man in the crowd. And he was forced to protect his own life, too. 

He was attacked repeatedly, but he managed to remain on his horse, in one piece. His own rage took hold of him. There was no way he would let the Demons take him down easily. If it was a battle they wanted, then a battle they would get! He was not one to go down without a fight. 

He took a blow on his left upper arm, but it was not serious and he kept on striking the enemies that came up to face him, trying his best to make the wounds his sword inflicted lethal. The blade was now slick with blood, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Marzio suddenly found himself right out of the range of battle, and took a minute to catch his breath before throwing himself back in again. His armour and uniform were stained with blood, some of it his own. But he'd be damned if he let things stay as they were now. 

He looked around, trying to identify someone he knew. He saw Ceni, far off on his right, engaged in battle with the officer that had been leading the infantry. Or at least, he thought it was the same man. Somewhere to his left, he saw a Demon dressed in high uniform and adorned armour dispatching of as many enemies as he - _she_? - could. A woman... and by the fighting technique, he believed it was Tempesta Neri-Lokh. 

He noticed other good fighters, both Angelian and Demon, engaged in battle to the death. But the one that caught his eyes was mounting a black stallion, and fighting like the evil spirits had taken possession of him. Clean kills, he remarked, amazed. Always clean kills, no pain for this man's opponents. A swift, merciful death. 

'This one is _mine_ ,' he decided on the spot, and pushed his horse back into the sea of bodies. 

* * *

The red-haired Dreak lost sight of General Zain-Reil, and for a moment he feared the Angelian might have been killed. But he had no time to think about it, being attacked by an enemy every time he managed to dispose of another. It was really hard to remember all the concepts that had been drilled in him during training. But, after a certain while, they became reflexes. 

He had never thought the fight would be so chaotic. He could barely make out his own position. He had lost all sense of orientation. He could hear the river flowing somewhere to his right, so he guessed he had to be on the west side of the battlefield. 

So much blood on his hands. So many lives on his conscience. But it had become a reflex. Raising the sword, thrusting it through the enemy's chest or throat, through armour or garments or skin. No feelings of what he was doing. Just the instinct to survive. 

He could not see Tempesta or Owen anywhere near. He did not recognize anyone, but instinct told him his friends were still alive, somewhere in the rabble surrounding him. 

He parried a blow with his shield. Another thrust, another kill. How long would this go on? 

A shout of challenge made him turn his head and raise his shield just in time. The received blow was strong enough to deform the metal; one second later and he would have lost his left arm. Ignis caught sight of blood-covered armour and broadsword, and a silver helmet that shone in the sun of the afternoon. Then he had to parry another blow, and another. 

This man was different from the others he had fought. This man had strength, and a good technique. He was a trained warrior. 

He landed a few blows himself, trying to make the man drop his shield and be thus in disadvantage. One of them landed on the man's shoulder, the force of the impact making him drop his sword. He bent down quickly to catch it before it could hit the ground. 

Ground? There was no ground under them. A sea of dismembered corpses was all that he could see. 

Ignis allowed the Angelian to get his sword. He did not like to kill people who could no longer defend themselves. There was no honour in that. 

He was prepared to begin the fight again. Just then, the man threw off his helmet, and Ignis' arm stopped in mid-blow. His earlier reticence returned. 

The man he was fighting was General Zain-Reil. 

He could not kill this man. He was _forbidden_ to kill him. 

His hesitation almost cost him his life. The Angelian raised his sword and was ready to deliver a final blow. But another Demon knight came from behind, and hit his right side. The sword broke through the armour, and with a short cry of pain the general dropped his weapon again. 

The other Demon was ready to kill the enemy general, and Ignis shouted loudly so he could be overheard, "No! He is mine!" 

They fought and fought and fought. The Demon would not give up easily either. Marzio hit, his opponent hit back. They were engaged in a deadly dance and only one could make it out alive. 

Strike, parry. Strike again. Marzio's left arm was getting cramped and pain spread through it from the wound he had received earlier. He would not keep his shield for much longer. 

He received a blow on his right shoulder. Luckily, it did not go through the armour, but it was strong enough to make him drop his sword. He bowed to recover it, not sure if this meant his death or not. He was lucky. The Demon allowed him to catch it in its fall. He would not kill an unarmed man, in a battle where little mistakes could prove fatal. 

His helmet felt heavy on his head, and the sun had heated it to an unbearable temperature. He disposed of it. It meant exposing his head, but it did not matter anymore. He would either die or live; it was as simple as that. Having his head unprotected did not mean anything, really. 

But something happened, then. The Demon suddenly froze in his attack. What was the meaning of that? 

Now, he had to act now, and quickly. It was his only chance. Whatever had surprised his adversary was in his advantage. He had been wrong. He would be the one to live. 

Metal hit metal. Pain crossed his side, making him scream. His hand fell, paralysed. He lost his sword, for good this time. He dropped the shield as well, holding his right side with his left hand. Fortune was against him, after all. 

He said a quick prayer in his mind, asking Seleh to protect his family and Drako to take his soul to the other side. He fixed his eyes on the knight before him, to remember the man. Plain golden armour, red uniform. Golden helmet. Wild eyes, staring at him from behind the visor. 

"Ignis?" 

His sight blurred. Hot blood was wet on his hand, flowing free from the fresh wound. He was getting dizzy. He forced himself to keep his eyes open. 

'Ignis?' 

The other Demon raised his sword once more. He would strike again... 

But Marzio was already falling through a dark abyss. Hands reached out to grab him. Light reflected on a blade above his head. The hands were snatching at him, pulling him down the horse. He tried to fight them, but strength had left him. He was lethargic, and his body fell downward. The hands still pulled at him. He did not want to go. But he had no choice. Never in his life had he had a choice. 

Something hard stopped his fall. Someone shouted "He is mine!" but he did not know the voice. Who was it? Who was keeping him there? Darkness was all around him now. The voice was calling him. He could not move. He could not think. The voice kept calling, but it was far off and fading. 

Who...? 

* * *

Praise Drako! The Demon knight had heard him. He had recognized him. He had stopped. 

The Angelian general's body dropped forward on his horse. The animal got frightened and neighed. He started running, past Ignis, through the men fighting on horseback or afoot. 

He couldn't let him get away! 

Ignis turned his horse and launched in a race against the runaway animal. The lines parted before him like waves in front of a ship. A part of his mind registered that the Angelians were dropping their weapons. They had seen the High Commander's body. They thought him dead, and were surrendering. No use fighting without a leader. Without the one that had been their support and in which lay all their hopes. 

Nevertheless, Ignis kept shouting at his men, "Let the horse through. He is mine!" If one tried to stop the startled animal, it had to be by force. And if the body dropped from the saddle, then the Angelian could very well break his neck in the fall. There was little hope he was still alive, but it was something Ignis wanted to hang on to. If the general was still alive, he could heal him. He could save his life. 

He would absolutely not let him die. 

"Where in the seven hells are you going?" Tempesta shouted at him when he passed her by. 

He did not stop his race. "Take care of the prisoners!" he shouted back, not sure if she had heard him. But she didn't need to be told what to do. It was her duty, after all. 

He kept racing south, following the trail of blood the general's horse had left behind. Severe blood-loss was not a good sign. But he _had_ to be alive. 

His own stallion was getting tired. No matter, he was close now. He lunged his hand and managed to get hold of the reins. The other horse slowed down, to finally draw to a stop. 

Ignis jumped from the saddle, pulling pulled the general's body down as well. Gently, less he would cause any more damage. He laid the man back on the grass and bent over him, checking for a pulse. 

He found it. Slow, but it was there, and steady too. It gave him enough time to get into camp before actually beginning the healing process. This was good. He could do it properly, then. 

He fought the tiredness he felt, and rose to his feet. He took off his cloak and tore a piece of cloth that was more or less clean, and slowly pushed it under the Angelian's broken armour, to slow down the flow of blood. He managed to get the man up and back on his horse. He mounted himself, grabbed the other horse's reins and began another wild race, back to the Demonis camp in the woods. He slowed down a couple of times, to make sure the general did not fall off his mount, but that was all. Every second mattered, now. 

But he would make it in time. He was sure of it. He had to be sure of it. Hope was the last thing to die, or at least so it was said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The Demon camp was almost deserted, but it would not remain thus for long. If the battle was over, then the troops would return, bringing the prisoners with them. The corpses would be taken care of later. Buried in the ground, or burned and their ashes thrown into the waters of the Mauri, to be carried in the sea and then further into eternity. 

He could imagine a sea of pyres over the sea of blood. Fire to cleanse what could not be cleansed. Fire to wash the ground that could not be washed. Fire to purify what could not be purified... 

No time to think of it now. No time to sink into meditation. He had something more important to take care of. And what was at stake was not just his future, but the future of Demonis. Perhaps of Angelia as well. 

Those that had remained behind to guard the camp ran and gathered around him as he dismounted, assailing him with questions. What had happened? Where were the others? Why had he come alone? And the unspoken curiosity on their faces: why had he brought an injured Angelian with him? 

Ignis tried to reassure them. The others were all right. The battle had been won and they would return soon. The ones here had to make sure the healers were ready to treat all the wounded, not just the Demon ones. They should also prepare tents for the prisoners that survived. He had ridden before to inform everybody and make the necessary preparations. As for the man... 

He could not find the proper words. He had brought him here because he had been given the order to save the man's life in a dream earlier that day. But he could not tell them that, lest the soldiers thought him mad. 

... As for the man, he was the Angelian High Commander. He was a precious capture. He held all the information they needed to block any further attack. But he was injured, and he had to be taken care of. 

He ordered them to go back to their posts and to let the healers know the wounded were coming soon. So many details to be taken care of before the rest of the army returned to camp... 

Ignis dismounted and had to hold on the saddle for support for a moment. He was tired, so very tired. Physically exhausted. His armour was smeared with blood, his uniform ripped in a couple of places. Under his helmet, he felt his hair dripping with sweat. He took it off, only to have wet strands of it fall in a heap all around him. He probably looked really dishevelled, and was amazed that the soldiers had made no comment about it. Then he recalled they all knew what a battle meant. There was no time to sit around and make sure no rebel hair was in your face with the enemy wanting to kill you. 

His attendant, Kheerah, took hold of the reins of his black stallion. He nodded, throwing him the other horse's reins as well. 

He felt too drained to carry the General Zain-Reil's body on his own, so he asked one of the men that had remained behind, a young infantry sergeant - or so said his uniform - , to help him get the Angelian safely into his tent. The man gave Ignis a surprised look, but he obeyed. They laid the general on the pillows in the back of the tent, and by that point Ignis did not give a damn if they got dirty. He ordered the sergeant to go fetch his personal healer as soon as possible. 

Kheerah came to help him remove his armour and stared at him aghast. He must have looked really frightening, like this. He sent the boy back out, to fetch plenty of fresh water. He then removed every piece of metal on his body by himself, letting them fall on the ground without a second thought. He removed the sweaty shirt as well. Minor wounds and some fresh bruises made their presence felt. No matter, none of them was serious. He would care for those later. 

A bath would have been nice, but he postponed that too. He washed his hands and face in the small basin he always held in this tent and then quickly donned a fresh shirt. He wringed his tangled hair and managed to pull it back in a tail of sorts. Later, he told himself. He would take care of everything else later. 

Not ten minutes had passed since he had entered the tent. He checked the general's pulse again. The heart was still beating. Blood was now staining the improvised bed, flowing slowly through cloth and armour. 

He had to get that damned steel case off the man! With trembling fingers, he started to unlace the small hinges. 

"You called, my lord?" the healer's voice interrupted him. "Are your injuries severe?" 

He nearly laughed in the man's face. After seven years of harsh training in the core of the Black Mountains, a few scratches were not even worth mentioning. 

"I can wait. It is this man that needs your attention, Zehi." 

The healer approached. Zehi was an old man, but very devoted to his job. He made no comment at the fact he was expected to treat an Angelian. Healers were not supposed to care who the patient was, after all. 

"The armour must go," the healer said calmly. 

Like he didn't damned know that already. But he refrained himself from any remark, and nodded slightly. He managed to unfasten half of it by the time Kheerah was back with a bucket full of fresh water from a nearby spring. 

"Milord, let me do it!" The boy hurried past him and knelt on the bed as well. Had he not been so tired, the blasted thing would have been off long before. But they had to be extra careful not to make the sharp edges cut further into the wound. Carefully, they lifted the breastplate. Then they removed the blood soaked tunic and shirt, and Kheerah pulled off his boots as well. 

"Lordship, please go. I will take care of this," the healer asked him. 

But he refused to go. He had to make sure all was well. 

"No, I'm staying," he told the old healer firmly. "I'll sit in the chair over there, and watch you. In case anything goes wrong. In case you need any help." 

Zehi accepted, although his expression said he was not very happy about it. But there was no way one could refuse a man of Ignis' status without endangering one's life. 

He asked Kheerah to wash the general's wounds. Carefully. Then he watched the boy at his task, under the healer's guidance. 

The Angelian had taken another hit, on his left shoulder, but it was no longer bleeding and could be ignored for the time being. The wound at the side was their immediate concern. The blood and dirt came off, and revealed the injured flesh to the sight. Crimson liquid was still flowing free, a thin rivulet that further stained the cushions. They would need to be replaced. 

Later. 

It had become his mantra. He had so many things to do, and he would do them all. _Later._

But the flow had to be stopped, or else the High Commander would bleed to death. He must have already lost a great amount of blood, and it was very unsettling. 

Loud sounds were heard outside. Some were screams of joy, and some of pain. The trotting of horses on the ground. The rest of the Army had returned. 

He looked towards the entrance. He should go and tell them all would be well. He should go and tell them what their sacrifice meant. What winning the battle meant. 

He found he could not move. 

Something he had not realized crossed his mind. What if it was too late? What if General Zain-Reil could not be saved? What if he had failed? 

"Go," the healer told him. "Go to them. I will take care of this man." 

He looked at the old man, really looked, for the first time that day. He needed to know. "Will he live?" 

"He lost a lot of blood. It will be difficult to close the wound. But I will do my best." 

He shook his head. "If you can't, let me know. But do it before it is too late. There is one more thing I would like to try." Something he hoped would not be necessary. 

Zehi was confused. Of course, everybody knew about his training. All knew that he was Dreak. But only his closest friends knew that he was Dreak not only by title. 

He smiled. "If you doubt your own powers, call me. You understand?" 

The man bowed reverently. "Yes, lordship." 

He struggled to get up. He left the tent and looked around him, trying to see the results of the battle. 

* * *

Two riders came his way. Tempesta and Owen. Unavoidable. 

"What happened?" the woman asked after she dismounted. "You went after that horse and for an instant we thought you were lost to us." 

"You two looked like you come from a bloody battle," he tried to joke. 

"And we won, too," Owen answered casually. But at what price? 

"Alright. Casualties, wounded, prisoners..." 

"Already taken care of," Tempesta cut him off. "I figured you'd be too weary to do it yourself. Besides, it was _my_ duty in the first place." 

"How many have we lost?" 

"Not by far as many as they did," Owen smirked. "I think we might have wiped off about a third of their army!" 

'A third?! Oh, Drako, you have been cruel to them this time!' 

The two officers fixed him. The question was obvious, and it did not need to be asked. 

"Right," he sighed. "The man I brought in." 

"General Zain-Reil." Tempesta spared him the utterance of the man's name. "Ignis, we have no right to question your decision. You always seem to have some obscure plan we're not aware of. But I really hope you know what's at stake, this time." She sounded tired and weary. 

The setting sun gave him the notion it was nearly dark. Time had passed so quickly, he hadn't even been aware of it. Many torches were being lit, to provide the necessary illumination for the incoming troops. There was a lot of movement around the tents where the healers were quartered. Tired soldiers walked passed them, in search of their own bunks. After the storm, nobody gave a damn of what would happen later. Most of them were probably in some sort of trance. 

"Did you manage to capture the rest of the General Staff?" he suddenly asked. 

"The four lords were coward enough to stay out of the battlefield. We caught them trying to sneak past our lines. They were no real problem," Owen informed him. "Captain Mah-Kel put up one hell of a fight, though." 

"So I figured." He looked at them, checking for injuries. Nothing major. "Keep them with the others for now. We can assign everybody separate quarters after a good night's sleep." 

Just then, Kheerah interrupted them. "Healer Zehi says you have to come, milord. He says there's nothing more he can do. The Angelian is dying." 

"And there goes _my_ sleep," Ignis sighed. "I'll be right there, Kheerah." He looked at his two friends, studying them for a moment. They had no clue about what was going through his mind. Should he at least give them a hint of what he was planning to do? They knew him well enough to figure it out immediately, with a little help. 

He smiled at them. "So, have a nice sleep, then. I will, too. After I make sure the general will not pass over on the other side, of course." 

Ah, yes. That got them. 

"You aren't planning..." 

"Ignis, you can't possibly..." 

He lifted his right hand, in a sign that meant to cut off any reproach or warning. "I _will_. There is no other choice I have left." 

"But the last time you tried this, it nearly killed you!" Owen remembered it just as well as he did, the day he had last used that power on a dying man. It had drained him of almost all his energy. But then, it had been his teacher. Would he risk the same for an enemy? 

_"He must not die today, do you understand?"_

'Damn her for being right! Why am I always put to the test in critical situations?' 

"I will do this; you cannot stop me. And that is the end of this conversation." Those words being said, he returned to his tent, determined to do what he had to. 

* * *

Healer Zehi was still bet over the Angelian's body. He heard Ignis come in, and bowed his head. "I am sorry, but I could not..." His voice trailed off. 

"You did well," Ignis assured him. "Go help your kinsmen with the injured. I shall take care of him." 

The man rose, and bowed again. "Should I send someone to help you with the body, your lordship?" 

"There will be no body, Zehi. This man will live." 

The voice in which Ignis had said those words had been calm and determined. The old man stared at him, in disbelief. He was none of his fellow Dreak. He could not understand what was bound to happen soon. 

"He lost too much blood. He _cannot_ live." 

Ignis smiled. "May Drako's will be done." 

Those were the ritual words for the beginning of the healing process. All regular healers knew them, and what they were for real. 

A key. They were a key to unchain the raw power hidden in the members of the Order. 

The Dreak were no healers. They were warriors. But their gift was a great one, and it required a lot of training to be controlled. Using this often was not recommended. 

But it was the only chance the Angelian general had. And it was also the only chance Ignis had to prove to himself once and for all that he knew what his real potential was. 

He guided his hands over the wound on the general's shoulder. He would start there, for it was much easier to cure and he had not used this power in a long time. 'Don't touch it yet!' He felt the force building up, the chill that spread through his body announcing the surge of energy. The eerie glow around his hands would soon be visible. 

An awed whisper came to his ears. "Are you going to...?" 

"Heal him?" He looked back at the man, to find him staring in disbelief. "It is in my power as a Dreak to do so. You may stay and watch if you want." 

Zehi approached him, reverently. "In all my years, I have never witnessed this. I knew about its existence, but I never dreamt it could take place before my very eyes." 

"I am not a research specimen," he said firmly. "You may stay or you may leave. But if you choose to stay, and in any way disturb me during the process, I will have your head. Understood?" 

Then, completely ignoring what decision the healer took, he closed his eyes and let the power guide him, like it had many times before. 

* * *

Marzio slowly started to regain his senses. The first thing he felt was a chill running through his fevered body, taking away all the pain he felt. Numbness engulfed him, and he didn't try to move, knowing full well that he couldn't. 

Then he felt the gentle touch of hands caressing his side, and realized they were the source of the pleasantness he was feeling all over. But so soon they ceased their movements, and he was left longing for more. 

They were replaced by a soft wet cloth delicately scrubbing his sides and torso. It was soothing, and he welcomed it. And if before he had doubted of his capacity to move, now he didn't _dare_ do it. 

He could recall taking a serious blow through the armour, and passing out just as the Demon officer had raised his sword to strike. Then it was all darkness and pain. 

The two caressing hands returned, soft fingers kneading the muscles of his shoulders, then trailing down his arms and back up again. They continued the exploration of his upper body, sinuously moving over his chest, lingering over his flat stomach. His body started giving him unsettling signals, and he suddenly caught himself wishing the hands grew bolder and went lower down. 

They did not. Instead, they moved back up again, stealthy trailing over both sides of his neck. One ended up tangled in his hair, and the other caressed his cheek, smooth fingers barely touching the burning flesh. A faint breeze passed over his face - the whispered breath of the one leaning over him. Two silken lips met his, as shy and fleeting as the hands had been, afraid they would get caught stealing a kiss. 

The Angelian general forced himself to open his eyes. It was easier than he had expected, and as his sight accommodated to the near-darkness around him, he caught glimpses of the angel that had been leaning over his body. It had drawn back slightly, and its wide burning eyes were fixed on him. 

He had to be either dead, or delirious, for the angel resembled someone he could only dream of. Long red strands framing a beautiful face, slender white shoulders; eyes lovingly blinking at him in surprise; even the broad black-feathered wings were there. Indeed, a wondrous dream angel it was, a faithful image of the original. 

A fleeting smile crossed the fine features, and the angel drew near again. 'Yes, kiss me again...' Marzio tried to say, but no words came out. 

"You are safe now," the angel whispered, its face so close to his they were nearly touching. Long fingers caressed Marzio's cheek once more. "Nobody will hurt you. I won't allow it. Go back to sleep..." 

His eyelids closed again, and a content sigh escaped his lips as he sank back into blessed oblivion. 

* * *

"What you are planning to do is absurd," whispered a high-pitched voice that brought Marzio back into awareness. "You cannot possibly keep him with you for the rest of the journey back home!" 

"He is not well enough just yet," a familiar voice replied. There was shifting and rustling, and the sound of feet quietly walking away. 

Marzio half-opened his eyes, and dim light inundated his sight. He blinked in order to clear his vision. Then he tried to raise himself up and take in his surroundings. He succeeded, with little effort. 

He looked around him and discovered he had been lying on a dozen or so large black satin cushions and covered with a warm blanket made of fine crimson-dyed wool. 

He was in what seemed to be the tent of a superior officer. From what he could see, it was not very large, yet exquisitely set up to accommodate its owner. 

There was little of the furniture one usually expected to find. A heavy mahogany chest on the left side, with a heavy lock on it. A smaller one, of the same material, that supported what he thought was armour and shield. To the right, two chairs, one empty and one loaded with various clothing items, and a small table with a washing basin, soap, a towel and a mirror. 

The low illumination was due to a heavy curtain hanging a few feet away from the improvised bed, parting slightly in the middle to allow access to this section of the tent. Voices could be heard on the other side, silently arguing, probably trying not to wake him up. 

He noticed he had been stripped to the waist while he had been unconscious. He remembered the wound, and instinctively touched his palm to his right side. Smooth skin met his touch - no pain, no blood, no scar. Like it had never been there. 

Marzio tried to stand up and managed to fight back the dizziness he felt. Staggering, he made for the chest that supported the golden armour, and took a better look. It was plain and unadorned, the crest of Demonis the only ornament he could spot on the shield. He was a prisoner, then. 

He touched his hand to the shield, taking in the coldness. If he thought about it well, he could still hear the sounds of battle, weapons clashing violently, metal against metal... 

He drew back. Slowly, he approached the small table at the other end of the tent. But, when he had almost made it, a wave of nausea swept over him. He fell on his knees, closing his eyes and gripping the end of the table for support. The small polished mirror fell on the ground with a bang. 

An instant later, two strong hands caught hold of him, lifting him up and forcing him to sit down in the empty chair nearby. Marzio leaned back, allowing the queasiness to fade. Since there was no escape, he decided he might as well face his captor. 

His eyes first fell on a woman of medium height, with long curly hair and dark eyes, who returned his scrutiny standing in the shadows a few feet away. He could not make out much of her face in the dim light, but the cut of her clothes indicated she was wearing a uniform. Also, her right hand rested leisurely on the hilt of her sword, and the Angelian was certain she would not hesitate to use that weapon against him if she considered it necessary. 

Then the woman turned and spoke to someone who was at Marzio's right, someone whose presence the general had been aware of but whom he had yet to see. "I see your guest has awakened," she told her companion. "I'll leave you two alone, then." 

Marzio's eyes followed her abrupt departure, and then searched for the other Demon, most likely the owner of the tent. A little smile and a familiar face met his gaze, and the general found himself breathing sharply as the Demon closed the distance between them and placed a slender palm on Marzio's forehead. 

Nodding, the Demon leaned back against the small table, crossing his hands over his chest and looking down at Marzio again. "Your fever has dropped. That is very good news." 

The general blinked. "Where am I?" he asked. 

"My tent, obviously," the young man replied, visibly amused at the silly question. "Where else did you think you were, General?" 

"The battle..." 

"... is long over. I have warned you. It would have been better for you and your army to turn back." 

"What happened to my men?" he inquired on a worried tone of voice. "I can't recall..." 

The Demon seemed to indulge him. "About one third were either killed or severely injured. I am really sorry, I had hoped it would not go this far." 

He nodded, grieved. One third! What a carnage! 

"The rest surrendered after you were injured. All of them were taken prisoners. However, I can assure you they are treated as humanly as possible. Although you have lost, there is no reason to humiliate any of you." 

He seemed convinced of his words. Marzio wondered if it was because he really cared, or if it was just a mask displayed for the sake of his captive. 

Meris Ignis straightened his body and took a few steps past the general. He picked up a shirt from the pile of clothing on the other chair and handed it to Marzio. "Put it on. It would not do to have you walking around camp half-naked." 

Marzio pulled on the blue silk garment. It was clean and smelt of freshness and lavender. His boots appeared in his hands out of nowhere, and he put them on as well. He was offered a hand up and he gladly took it. 

"There's more light on the other side of this curtain; I like to see the faces of those I speak with," the Demon said while he gently guided Marzio past the heavy curtain, into the part of the tent he had not seen yet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Daylight and fresh morning air stormed in through the lifted cloth of the entrance. Marzio was directed on towards an opulent and magnificently carved ebony desk that occupied almost the entire right side of the tent. It was covered in maps and numerous other papers, as well as some heavy volumes of indiscernible content. There were several chairs around it, made of the same wood, but only the one on the opposite side from where they stood had the same exquisite design as the desk. The others looked plain, yet comfortable. 

The Dreak helped him sit in one of these, and turned to a table on the other side, picking up a bottle and pouring wine in two glass goblets. Returning to the desk, he offered one to Marzio. The general accepted, and sipped a little of the ruby liquid. Rare and expensive - just like everything else in the tent. Good taste and plenty of gold were two things Ignis did not seem to lack. 

The young Demon placed his glass on the desk, lowered himself in the chair at Marzio's left and leaned back, apparently feeling quite at ease. 

"His Majesty King Teh-Kai would give half the treasury for this desk," Marzio told him, catching his breath. 

Ignis sounded amused. "I believe he would. Yet I doubt he would do the same thing just to see his subjects free and safely back home." 

"Is that the price of our release?" 

Ignis looked at him, his face unreadable again. "We have no need for Angelian gold. What we desire is peace between our two lands. That is all we shall ever ask from you or your people, Lord Marzio." 

A startled laugh escaped Marzio's lips. "Nobody has ever called me a 'Lord' before. Please, don't make a habit of it. You can even call me by my given name, if you want." The Demon officer nodded back at him. "May I call you by your name too?" 

"I fear my countrymen would not appreciate that very much. But I have no objection if you do so when there is just the two of us present." Ignis stared back at the general, silent for a short while. It looked like he was searching for a way to express something that was on his mind. Finally, he voiced it. "Are you really feeling well? The wound was clean, and no vital organs were touched. However, you have lost a lot of blood." 

"I remember taking the blow, but..." There was no pain. No wound exposed to the eyes. He stared back at Ignis, not comprehending. 

"Even I had my doubts that a healing would be possible. Still, it worked, and better than I had initially expected. You probably remember nothing of the process, as you were unconscious during it. I am amazed it only took you one night to recover." 

_One night_? Everything had happened just the day before? Impossible. 

"How...?" His words wouldn't come out and he cleared his throat. "If I was injured only yesterday, how was it possible for my injuries to heal in such a short amount of time? No healer I know holds such power." 

"It is the gift of Drako," came the reply. "I don't expect you to fully understand any of it, of course. All Dreak warriors have this power; but it varies in intensity. At any rate, you will never meet anyone other than the Dreak that can use it the way I did last night." 

"So I was right. You are one of them." 

"Please, General. You make it sound as if it were a curse. I am proud to be ' _one of them_ ', as you put it." 

Marzio focused his eyes on the desk, not willing to look at him. He was starting to fear Ignis. To hold power over life and death... how many of their countrymen could one Dreak have saved by using it? 

Marzio's people considered that befriending a Demon was a pact with Drako, which to the Angelians was not only the God of War but also of Destruction. Yet there were those willing to risk it. He was beginning to get a vague idea _why_. 

Something suddenly caught his eyes. On the desk, among various papers, there laid a dagger. He recognized it as the same one that had been given to him. He reached his hand to pick it up, then remembered what his current position was and retracted it, smiling in apology. 

Ignis picked up the dagger himself, and handed it to him. 

'Such infinite trust!' Marzio shook his head, refusing to accept it. "It is of exquisite craftsmanship. I'm glad it found its way back to you." 

"It has a certain amount of emotional value," Ignis said. 

"Why didn't you use it, back in our camp?" 

The Demon laughed. "I have no desire to see you dead, Marzio." The way he pronounced his name was nothing like the Angelian had heard before. The different accentuation gave it a musical sound, and it sent a little shiver down his spine. "I had plenty of occasions to take your life, and you know it," Ignis continued. "In your camp, during the battle, in this very tent..." 

Long fingers flexed on the hilt, and then the dagger was placed back on the desk. Ignis rose, and trailed an elegant finger on the polished black wood. "However, I am afraid I must now put an end to our little conversation. I still have many important things to take care of." 

He clapped his hands and two armed guards promptly entered the tent. The Prince's Guards again, he noted. Was he considered that dangerous? 

Ignis smiled, apologetically. "You have to go with them. There is no more reason for you to be here. All your belongings were taken to the tent assigned to you and your General Staff. We had to search your luggage for weapons. But that is all we took; the rest is at your free disposal. Naturally, you will be under strict surveillance. Still, should you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. It will be granted, provided it is acceptable." 

"Thank you, Meris Ignis. I shall keep that in mind." He bowed and let the two soldiers escort him out. 

* * *

From his first days in captivity, General Marzio Zain-Reil began to have a lot of respect and admiration for his enemies. 

The one thing that had really bothered him greatly had been that he and his Second-in-Command had to share a tent with the Lords of the War Council. The only one he could reasonably talk to, besides his trusted Ceni, was Lord Angus. He argued with Kelan every day, over small things such as a dish that was served to them or a meaningless word that had been misplaced in a phrase. Captivity supposedly made countrymen, were they the worse of enemies, get along and co-operate for the common good. It looked like this wasn't the case here. 

When asking Meris Owen about it, the man had shrugged and replied, "You are easier to guard like this. Besides, we don't have many spare tents at our disposal." 

The Dreak's honesty had been a pleasant surprise, and it somehow encouraged him to ignore most of the barbs Kelan threw at him daily. This new self-control had amazed even Ceni, who kept telling him the red-haired Demon had not only healed him, but had increased his will power as well. Marzio was beginning to wonder about it himself. 

Meris Ignis, to whom he had petitioned all his requests, had turned out to be a very influential person. They were allowed to take small walks outside the tent, and the clever Dreak had even somehow managed to obtain his Prince's permission for Marzio to visit the rest of the Angelian troops in order to see their situation and asses the losses. Marzio himself had never come face to face with the Demon sovereign; but his presence was always there, looming over them. 

Of course, they were never let out of their guards' sight. In fact, the Prince of Demonis seemed to consider them worthy of appointing his own Captain of the Guard as their warden. 

This man was Owen Alisi-Feit. He, too, was young - 25, Marzio had learned upon asking -, but a good fighter and reliable man; he had been the one in command of the blockade squadron. And, naturally, he was Dreak. Relatively tall and well-built, he imposed on those around him. However, he lacked the extraordinary charisma Ignis emanated. 

The officer watched over them day and night. He wasn't present at all times, nevertheless he seemed to show up when less expected. Ceni even wondered if the man ever slept. 

Once, he surprised the Angelians by having dinner with them. Lord Kelan had tried his best to irritate him, and failed at it. Owen had never been truly bothered. He held the same dignified pose his fellow Dreak had held while standing in front of Marzio's tent not one week before. 

One difference between the two, however, was that Owen had a stinging tongue. While Ignis had so far always veiled his allusions, using carefully-chosen words and leaving plenty of room for interpretation, the captain did no such thing. In fact, when Kelan had practically told him in the face they were barbarians, letting women fight together with men and rule them, he had replied without even blinking, "Yes, and apparently they have enough courage to do so without being pushed from behind. As you could notice, General Neri-Lokh has managed to defeat your troops with no major problem." 

They had not yet discussed the topic of their defeat openly. 

"You would have been crushed had the cavalry not arrived at just the right moment," Lord Gettik quickly commented. 

"Quite an impressive strategy, wouldn't you say?" Meris Owen replied, looking at Marzio for some unknown reason. "His Highness came up with it." He seemed proud, and rightfully so. This also confirmed the Marzio's early suspicions concerning Lord Lavian's lack of involvement in this campaign. 

"Excuse me, Captain, but will we get the chance to meet His Highness Prince Sagni-Dor?" Lord Angus asked politely. At least he showed more diplomacy then the other three, Marzio noted. 

Owen smiled. "I cannot say, that is for him to decide; all I am allowed to tell you is that he is here in camp. You might have even caught a glimpse of him during the battle." 

None of the four had taken part in the battle, and the Demon knew that. They couldn't have possibly seen him. Marzio thought back at the many worthy warriors that he had noticed that day. Had one of them had been the prince himself? 

Another time, the Captain had been kind enough to answer some of his questions. Marzio had asked for more information about the Dreak, stating openly his respect and consideration for who they were and what they represented. 

"Not many make it past the training period," the proud Demon had confessed. "Five to ten from about one hundred cadets. We are the peace keepers of Demonis, and serve the Prince to our death." 

Marzio understood that, to some extent. But he knew too little on their customs and beliefs, and he had a curiosity of his own. "What about the healing powers? When I was injured, Meris Ignis has..." 

He didn't know exactly how to put it. Angelian healers used herbs and ointments. But what had been done to him was nothing of the sort. 

Owen laughed at his ignorance. "The power is inborn. We learn to control it in time. You should consider yourself lucky, General Zain-Reil. Ignis is one of the most skilled of our Order. Had he not been here, you would probably not be speaking to me right now. That wound took you nearer to death as you might imagine." 

Marzio had sensed a sting of jealousy when Ignis' name had been mentioned. "Are the two of you well-acquainted, Meris?" 

That remark earned him an offended look from the young captain. "We were in training camp together. He and I were fierce rivals." He lowered his eyes. "I don't think I have to tell you who won all the time. I have always envied him. But we are friends now, General. And that is all you will get from me regarding our gracious Ignis." 

As for Ignis himself, Marzio never met him again since that morning he had spent in the Demon's tent. He caught flashes of him here and there, always accompanied by either a dark-haired woman or Owen. Marzio had thought Ignis had been watching him while inspecting the Angelian troops, but when he had taken a better look, there had been no one there. 

However, the Demon had been right. There had been severe losses, and many men had died from the wounds received in battle. However, they all had acceptable lodgings, and were indeed treated honourably. Marzio was also informed that an emissary had been sent to Quiris, carrying a message for King Teh-Kai of Angelia. The Prince of Demonis requested the signing of a long-term peace treaty and a new trade agreement between their lands, in exchange of the return of his men. True to Ignis' words, no mentioning of any gold had been made. 

Marzio knew that the King would not initially accept. But he would be forced to, because more than half the labour force had left on this expedition, peasants enlisting themselves in the army in exchange of a sum of money that could assure their family's survival. If the men did not return, there was no one left to work the land, and this meant losing the major source of income the country had - agriculture. So yes, the King was forced to accept, at least until his men were returned to him. 

* * *

On the seventh day of each week, the Demon soldiers had their regular time off. There were several activities in camp during that day. Archery and fighting competitions were being held. Marzio and the other high-ranked Angelians had been allowed to participate in any of them, if they so chose. 

Ceni had decided to take part in the hand-to-hand fights, and had managed to win several of those. The Demons had been impressed with the man's fighting techniques. Lord Kelan and Lord Elssi had entered the archery competition. Both men were fairly good hunters, and had a certain dexterity with the bow, but they were no match for the battle-trained soldiers they were up against. Lord Gettik had preferred to stand by and look at them while they were defeated, and Lord Angus was off somewhere as well, but Marzio had no idea exactly where. He later found out the man had accepted to go hunting with Owen and some of their guards. They seemed to enjoy the man's company. 

That left Marzio alone in the tent, not willing to show off in front of some men that were, after all, the enemy. He preferred to sleep later than usual, and have a break from the taunting and tormenting he was exposed to daily. After a late breakfast, he picked up a book he had read several times so far and was beginning to think he would eventually learn by heart. He got through the third chapter when a discrete cough interrupted him. 

The general looked up, startled to find Ignis leaning against one of the poles by the entrance, studying him. The Demon was not in uniform, for once. Instead, he wore brown leather leggings, a white silk shirt and a sleeveless brown tunic that reached down to his knees. His hair was pulled back in the thick plait again, and Marzio pondered if he ever wore it free on his shoulders. 

The Demon offered a polite smile when his presence was acknowledged, and Marzio grinned back at him, genuinely happy with the disturbance. "Would you care to join me, or would you rather stay there all day?" he asked the younger man. 

Ignis took the few steps separating him from the opening and had to bow his head a little while entering. "I was planning on asking you the same thing, General. Why aren't you out with your friends? They are quite enjoying themselves. Or would you rather not socialize with the enemy?" 

"Actually I'd rather keep away from my 'friends', thank you very much. But I have nothing against you being here, of course." 

It was Ignis' turn to giggle. "Not that you would be given much choice in the matter. Is your reading interesting so far?" he said, pointing at the small leather-bound volume. 

"As much as a treatise on hunting mountain bears by an author that has never seen any can be," Marzio said, closing the book and handing it to Ignis. 

The Demon browsed through it, shaking his head occasionally. "This is quite inaccurate. I can lend you a better one, if you want." He sat down at the table elegantly, and placed the volume on the wooden surface. "Although I doubt you'll ever come across such animals in Angelia." 

"That makes two of us," Marzio agreed. "However, I've had my share of game in the forests of Pythia." 

"Did your father take you hunting?" 

"My uncle, actually. Father died while I was still a child. Mother, my sister and I went living with his brother, the Count of Meralda. He had no children, and named me his heir. What about you?" 

"Me?" Ignis smiled mysteriously. 

"Yes, you. It is obvious that you are nobility. Now, I may not be familiar with your land, but I do know some of the major families and..." 

"I'd rather not speak of it, if you please," the man cut him off. "Instead, tell me more about you and your family. And Pythia. It's a western region, right?" 

So Marzio found himself recounting things he had almost forgotten, tales of his infancy and adolescence, about his father and uncle and his earlier times in the army. 

The morning slowly turned into afternoon, and now the sun's rays penetrated through the entrance and fell on the Demon's face, making his red hair shine in a myriad of different shades. Ignis still listened to him, leaning in the chair, silently laughing at some of the tricks Marzio had recalled playing on his peers. "I used to do that, too," he finally confessed. "A lot. I was not an obedient child. I caused my father major headaches." 

"You don't really strike me as the type, Ignis," Marzio quickly noted, trying to use the opportunity and learn more about the young warrior. "You look more like the 'quiet and innocent' type." 

"Innocent? Surely, you must be jesting. I am no more an innocent than you are - take my word on it." 

"And what were some of these pranks, then?" He was now truly curious. 

Ignis thought about it a little, "I used to torment my tutor a lot. He was a good man, but rather severe. My father wanted it that way." There was a hint of regret in the words, and unhidden discomfort at the mentioning of his parent; but he continued nonetheless, "Of course, there was no way to stop an eight-year-old from getting what he wanted. I used to place frogs in his wine glasses, or spices in his dessert. Nothing major, really. But it is in small things that I find happiness. The day he sat down on a sleeping cat was totally hilarious." 

"Then you're not so different from us, after all. We all did this sort of things at one time in our lives." 

Ignis regained his composure. "I have always been different, Marzio. _Always_. And not only because of my fair features or healing powers, mind it. But that is something else I'd rather not discuss right now." He stood up and offered, "Come, join me for a walk." 

Marzio checked his own clothes for a second. Short blue tunic, breeches of a darker blue and leather boots. Acceptable. He caught up with Ignis and together they made their way through the myriad of tents, towards the improvised archery range. Many of the soldiers were gathered there, and they bowed and made room for them when Ignis showed his intention of approaching the archers, Marzio close on his heels. Kelan was still there, but seemed rather concentrated on the competition and did not see them come. 

Ignis' goal was the long-haired woman the Angelian general had seen him with before - the same woman that had been in Ignis' tent on the morning after the battle, he suspected. She was near the wooden fence, leaning on the long bow she held in her left hand, and watched them as they came towards her. She warmly shook hands with Ignis, and whispered something in his ear while eyeing Marzio questioningly. 

Ignis chuckled and whispered back. Then he turned back to the Angelian, a brilliant smile on his face. "General Tempesta Neri-Lokh, meet General Marzio Zain-Reil." 

Tempesta Neri-Lokh was of about Marzio's age, but she was not at all what one expected. She was shorter than any of them, and very feminine in her own way. She would have looked beautiful in a gown, Marzio concluded. Her uniform was that of the Royal Guard of Demonis, and the tight cut only helped emphasise her womanly curves. She wore her curly dark auburn hair in a ponytail, and her brown almond-shaped eyes shone as she gave him a better look. Her chocolate skin was no doubt also the result of a life spent mostly out of doors, and she had the same attitude Ignis possessed, that of a person secure on her surroundings. 

She shook his hand coolly, then placed a small hand on Ignis' arm and whispered in his ear again. Marzio found he was a little jealous at the familiarity between the two. Then she headed for the place where the men were still shooting. 

"What's wrong with her?" Marzio asked Ignis. 

"She and I do not hold the same ideas regarding your confinement. Don't worry, she will get over it." 

Marzio stared at him, perplexed. "You argue with your Supreme Commander and all you have to say is 'she will get over it'?" 

Ignis shrugged, as if he did this on a regular basis. "She is my friend. Come. She will show your Lord Kelan what our woman warriors are capable of." 

And the Demon general did just that. Lord Kelan was furious that evening, and Marzio laughed silently, remembering that the chief advisor had probably never even thought a woman would have more skills at shooting a bow than he did. So much for the 'family values' the man strongly promoted. 

* * *

As the second week slowly passed, Ignis made himself invisible again, but Captain Alisi-Feit brought Marzio several books on his behalf, including a heavy volume called "The Concise History and Customs of Demonis" and two hunting treaties on mountain bears. Owen had assured him they were all quite accurate. 

Still, Marzio started getting more and more irritated by Lord Kelan and his provocations. They seemed to be the only things the old man actually thought of all day long. He felt the urgent need to strangle him, chief advisor or no chief advisor. 

That day things had been worse than usual. When the Captain of the Guard finally showed up, late in the afternoon, Marzio decided to attempt the impossible. While the Lords were out 'stretching their legs a little', under heavy surveillance, he addressed the Dreak. 

"Excuse me, Captain," he said, sounding more exhausted then he actually felt, "but I must request to be given different quarters. You heard with your own ears what that man barks at me. I am getting past all levels of endurance. If you do not find a way to split us up, I fear I might actually do him physical damage." 

Stretched in a chair, Meris Owen thought about it for a little while. His brown eyes narrowed, and his left brow trembled a little. "You are right." With one hand, he pushed the auburn strands back from his face. "I shall take this up with General Neri-Lokh or the Prince. You should be glad, my lords," he added loudly, so that the four men that had just entered the tent could hear him. "I'm having this weekend off." 

"Finally, some time to breathe," Kelan replied hurriedly, not caring that the man had heard him loud and clear. 

"Don't be so sure about that." Meris Owen's glacial smile was flawless. "I doubt the one that will be replacing me will be any better. There are only two choices, and you won't be happy with either of them." 

"And those are?" Lord Elssi inquired. 

"One of them is our very own Supreme Commander - I trust you know by now just how 'tolerant' she can be. The other one, and my personal favourite for the job, is Meris Ignis." The same smile on his face, he cast a quick glance to catch Marzio's expression. "And trust me, though one wouldn't say at first sight, he can be hell on earth if properly encouraged." 

Marzio was stunned. Ignis had never struck him as a violent or an evil person. And the gentleness in his eyes as he had... 'Put that out of your mind! It was just your imagination! You were probably delirious!' Yes, Ignis probably was someone to be feared. And Kelan had already made him his enemy without even knowing. 

"Who is this Ignis we keep hearing about?" Lord Angus asked him after dinner, careful not to be overheard. 

"The messenger they sent to our camp before the battle. Please allow me to warn you, Lord Kelan was not exactly very diplomat on that occasion." 

But all hell broke loose the following day. Apparently taking for granted the fact no one was there to watch them, Kelan started insulting him again. Marzio tried his best not to hit him when the chief advisor called him a coward. But, when the old man insulted his mother and his family's honour, he just couldn't take it anymore. Kelan actually had the nerve to slap him, and Marzio felt his lower lip bleeding as he caught hold of the man's gold-trimmed tunic. Ceni tried to hold him back, tearing his shirt in the process, but it was all in vain. He landed a punch in the fool's face, and was about to hit him again, as a strong voice commanded, "Stop it! Now!" 

* * *

After a long and heated debate, Lady Tempesta had agreed to let Ignis personally watch over the prisoners for the next two days. Somehow, the young man always seemed to get what he wanted and convince her it was the best thing to do, in spite of better judgement. It came natural to him, and that could be frightening at times. 

'It must run in the family,' she thought while waiting for him to return from his daily training. 'I wonder if there is someone immune to his charisma...' 

Just then, agile like a mountain lion, Ignis entered the tent. His shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to his marvellously built torso, showing him at his best in the tender light. 

"I know at least one other person who would love to see you like this," she told him. 

He shot her a mischievous glance. "Oh, you do? I thought I'd wear a uniform today, but now that you mentioned it... maybe I should just go as I am." 

And that, after taking the shirt off and throwing it on one of the chairs! 

"You will do no such thing," she retorted. "Unless, of course, you want him drooling all over the table during lunch." 

"And we can't have that, can we now?" he considered. 

"I'm coming with you. I want to take a better look at this Angelian, since he seems to be your favourite topic of conversation lately." 

Ignis giggled, as he pulled on a fresh shirt and donned his tunic. Emerald green velvet. 'So he's playing the Dreak warrior again.' 

They made their way to the large tent that had been assigned to the prisoners. "I swear, poor Owen doesn't know how to stay out of your sight anymore. You practically _interrogate_ him every night. 'What did he do? What did he say?' Really, Ignis..." 

He only shrugged. "May I remind you it is my business to know? He is our most important adversary." 

"Yeah, right! I bet that's why you were so glad to accept his request." 

"Oh, shut up already! Lord Kelan can be really exhausting. Not to mention irritably shrewd and insulting. In fact, I wonder how a man with the General's passion has managed to refrain himself for this long. It's a miracle he..." 

All of a sudden he stopped talking. He had just stepped inside the prisoners' tent, and she had followed him closely, only to find two of the Angelians engaged in a fight. In fact, a younger one, whose face she couldn't see from behind, was in the process of applying what looked like a really hard punch in the face of Lord Kelan, whom he held tightly by the front of his tunic. 

"Stop it! Now!" she shouted, as Ignis looked at the scene before them, a little baffled. 

They did stop. The younger man dropped the other on the ground with no sign of respect and turned to face them. Immediately, she recognized the green eyes. Marzio Zain-Reil, of course. He seemed in excellent shape, but for the torn silk shirt and a rivulet of blood running down the right corner of his mouth. 

She turned to Ignis, only to find him looking at the Angelian general, wide-eyed. He did not move or speak, just stared, a fire she had never seen before lighting his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Finally, Ignis seemed to somehow remember how to breathe, and did so. He had been prepared to see Marzio again, the strength that had left him with the blood he had lost fully recovered by now. But he had not expected to see him _like that_. 

He reverently ran his eyes over the man's body - all muscles, tense and prepared for battle. The torn shirt revealed some of the beautifully sun-tanned skin of the man's chest. Ignis felt his breath catch again. 

Blood! There was blood on his face! 

He wanted to reach out and touch those silken lips again, kiss the blood away and run his hands through the golden hair, over the velvety skin... 'Ignis, what _are_ you thinking?!' 

Tempesta's voice brought him back to reality. "Guards! Seize them both!" 

That definitely had the effect of a cold shower. For a moment, he had lost all contact with the surrounding world. He closed his eyes, cleared his head and then looked again at the two men. Marzio was looking back at him, green eyes wide. Kelan - that is, he thought it was Kelan, for the man had disgusted him so much he didn't even bother to remember his face - was shaking with fury, held back by four of the Guards. 

'Why did you do it?' Ignis wanted to ask Marzio. 'Why couldn't you wait just a little longer?' 

"Escort the General to my tent!" he found himself ordering. Tempesta looked at him disapprovingly, but the guards followed his command, leading the Angelian out of the tent. "You four stay here," he told the ones holding the angry counsellor. "Make sure Lord Kelan recovers some of the dignity he never possessed." 

"I hope you're not planning to overlook this," Tempesta said to him as they were walking back to his quarters. 

"First of all I want to find out what really happened in there," he answered. 

Of course, she wouldn't have expected it differently. They led themselves by the same set of rules. Only that, at times, he was more tolerant then she was. But he was slowly running out of patience himself. 

* * *

The guards left Marzio alone in the familiar tent, posting themselves outside. He sat down and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. 'What did just happen?' he wondered. Why had the soldiers followed Ignis' orders without waiting for any confirmation from their Supreme Commander? She had clearly disagreed, but... 

He was not allowed the time to figure it out. The see-through curtain that had been covering the entrance drew back, allowing the two Dreak in and soundlessly falling back into place after them. 

Ignis was not wearing the red uniform Marzio had always seen him in before. In fact, he looked stunning in green velvet doublet and dark velvet breeches, a beautifully ornamented sword hanging at his side, proud and solemn as ever. His long hair was loose on his shoulders, a bit dishevelled by the mild wind outside. Like always, the Demon caught Marzio's eye. He looked even more majestic than he had before, if such a thing were possible. 

The Superior Commander of Demonis was just as he had seen her before, only this time she seemed a lot angrier and did not bother to hide it. 

Ignis moved past Marzio without a word or even a look, and seated himself in the sculptured chair behind the heavy ebony desk. Tempesta took a chair closer to the Angelian. Dangerously closer. 

Then why did he feel he should fear Ignis more than he feared her? 

"I think we deserve an explanation, General," the Demon general addressed him. Ignis was content to just lock his eyes on him, silently pleading for an answer. 

There was something different about the young officer today. Something bothered him, and although it was barely noticeable, Marzio picked it up immediately. Ignis was weary of something. Or someone. 

He took a deep breath. "I really must apologize for my actions, General Neri-Lokh. It was not proper to attack one of my own countrymen, given our current situation. Still, there is only so much one man can take. And I do not answer nicely when being constantly tormented by a lunatic." 

A short laugh escaped Ignis' lips. But it was bitter, and left the Angelian longing for some of the mild humour he had got so used to while in Ignis' company. 

"I know my deed demands retribution," he continued, "but please take into consideration the fact that I have warned you. I told Meris Alisi-Feit last night that..." 

"We know exactly what you told him!" the woman cut him off. 

Ignis propped his elbows on the table and leaned his chin on his joined fingers. He kept staring intensely at Marzio through slit eyes. "Tempesta," he said in a neutral voice, "would you be so kind as to bring Lord Kelan here? I would like to hear him too before we can pass any judgement on the matter." 

She looked at him, then. She bit her lip, trying to refrain herself from saying whatever was on her mind. Afraid of what might happen if they were left alone, perhaps? Afraid for Ignis? Or, perhaps, afraid _of_ him? 

He smiled, the weariness Marzio had noticed before present in his words. "Don't you think I can handle this by myself?" 

"I have no doubt about it..." she mouthed, standing up and leaving the tent. Marzio wondered how much of the relationship between the two was not known to him. 

A heavy silence fell between them. They just kept looking at each other, and Ignis' stare was getting more and more unnerving by the moment. It was like he was trying to pull out every thought from Marzio's head with a pair of pincers. Finally, the Demon lowered his head. He began to toy absent-mindedly with the sleeve of his tunic. 'Not good,' Marzio thought, 'not good at all.' 

The young man got up gracefully and circled the desk to stand in front of the Angelian. As he did so, he kept whispering, "Half an hour... a damned half an hour..." 

Marzio felt like he was locked in a cage with a deadly predator when Ignis stopped not one foot in front of him, and eyed him furiously. He had never seen the Demon look at him in such a manner; now he understood what Kelan must have felt like before, in their camp on the banks of the Mauri River. 

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Ignis suddenly lashed out at him. "Did you really believe this would actually solve any of your damned problems?" 

Marzio just stared in disbelief. Ignis had never been angry with him, let alone sworn in his presence. In fact, he had always admired the man's self-control. But, as he himself had said earlier, there was only so much one could take. 

Ignis suddenly reached forward and grabbed the back of his neck. Marzio mentally prepared himself for the blow, which could not be prevented. He knew he would never harm the beautiful Demon. 

But the expected strike never came. Instead, hot lips seized his in a fervent kiss that cut out his breath. He allowed it, not quite sure how to react. His body responded out of pure instinct, and he opened his mouth to the demanding pressure, Ignis' tongue slipping past his lips. 

He suddenly remembered how much he had wanted to touch the fall of soft red hair, and he raised a handful of it to his cheek, enjoying the feeling. It was, indeed, like a fluid mass of silk, ticklish yet soft. 

His mouth was now fastened on the Demon's, and for a moment all the world seemed to come to a halt. 

* * *

As he was drawn deeper in that searing kiss, Ignis realized he had not felt such ardour while kissing someone in a long time. For the past five years, he had avoided taking pleasure in his own sex, content with what women had to offer him. But old habits died hard. And he had fooled himself by thinking what he felt for the Angelian General had been merely the instant attraction one usually felt when meeting one's equal. He had been so very wrong! 

He sought Marzio's tongue, and was grateful when it found his own. They were both caught in a whirlpool of sensations, and Ignis allowed the Angelian's hand to tangle in his hair. He released the hold he had on the nape of Marzio's neck, and slowly trailed his hands down the general's strong shoulders, to caress the soft white feathers of his wings. It felt good to finally have him in his arms, to know he allowed these affections. 

But he had to break the kiss, gasping for breath as he pulled back reluctantly. His lips lingered for one more instant on Marzio's before he backed off and leaned on the desk, feeling drowsy. 

"Marzio, listen... There is something you must know about me..." 

Marzio looked at him, green eyes shining with desire. Yet he did not move. 

"I am..." 

Just then, Tempesta entered, followed by the guards and the King of Angelia's chief advisor. This time, the six guards didn't leave the tent, but placed themselves around the two prisoners. Now, there was no way he could say it without messing everything up. 

Tempesta seemed to notice something was wrong. There was a deep silence still hanging in the air. She gave him a suspicious glance, and spoke. "You desired to talk to Lord Kelan, I believe." 

Ignis coughed, and went back to take his place in the mahogany chair. It had been his father's, along with the desk. "Your lordship, I expect a full explanation of what has happened this morning, upon our arrival in your currently assigned living facilities." 

Oh, by Drako, he sounded like one of those boring civil servants that attended Court every now and then! 

"I owe no explanation. Not to you, and not to anyone." Kelan seemed determined to have it his way and not give up his disdain. And once started, he was hard to stop. "Do you think this pathetic little worm" - and he clearly pointed at Marzio, who went red with anger but cleverly avoided another violent reaction - "can demand anything from me? He doesn't even know how to command a squad, let alone the whole Army!" 

'Oh, but he does, and better than you can ever imagine, you idiot!' Ignis almost laughed in his face. Marzio had been right; staying in the same place with this man was pure murder. His earlier anger returned, stronger, and he didn't know if he would be able to control it this time. 

"And you, with your _superior_ manners and women warriors! All your people, a bunch of barbarians, with your stupid laws and pretence of greatness. Were I your Prince, I would be ashamed! Ashamed to lead such people, befriend a woman who knows more about war than she does about raising a family, or an insolent young man who obviously forgets his place in front of those higher in rank than he is." 

Ignis saw Tempesta put her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to strike at any signal. He glanced at her, and she knew him well enough to understand he did not wish it. Not yet. 

He gripped the chair's armrests, trying to get hold of himself. He could not find the strength to do it. Not anymore. He had controlled his emotions for far too long, and they were threatening to burst. He had to let them out. 

And after hearing the old man's next tirade, he did. 

* * *

If Marzio had thought Ignis had been furious before, he quickly understood how wrong he had been. As Kelan went on insulting his country and his prince, the young man made visible efforts to regain control of himself. He was failing miserably. He had gone from a faint blush to yellow and then stark white. He clenched his hands on the beautifully carved armrests of the chair he sat in, and Marzio thought he had heard them creaking under the pressure. In spite of the lithe figure, there was hidden strength in him. 

Too much had happened that day, even for one so calm and tolerating like Ignis. His eyes were now glowing with anger and so much hate the Angelian had never seen in him. His breath was uneven, and as the Demon finally abandoned his control Marzio instinctually drew back a step. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tempesta trying to get behind the desk, but she didn't make it in time. The Dreak pushed back his chair, loudly hit the table with both palms and threw his body forward towards Kelan, the large desk the only obstacle keeping him from tearing the old man into pieces. He practically shouted into the man's face, the anger turning the otherwise tranquil and serene voice into something harsh and authoritative. 

" _You arrogant bastard! How dare you address yourself to the Prince of Demonis in such a manner?_ " 

Kelan's face took on a deathly pallor; he looked at Ignis, dumbstruck. He was not the only one. Marzio thought he would die right then and there. 

The Prince of Demonis. Ignis was the Prince of Demonis. 

The one so elusive he had thought he would never actually meet him face to face. The one that had surprisingly thwarted all their plans. And also the one that had saved him from certain death. 

The General felt betrayed. Why hadn't Ignis told him who he was? Did he really trust him that little? 

'Would _you_ trust someone that wanted to take your home away and kill you?' his conscience shouted. 

No, he wouldn't. Not for one second. Yet, just five minutes ago, he thought Ignis did. The kiss had meant everything. All fears and worries had subsided in it. He had been reborn into a new and wondrous world. He had touched the skies for one second. 

Now he felt like he was back in hell. 

He started trembling slightly, and took a few quick breaths, trying to gain enough courage and look Ignis in the eyes. 

The calmness was there once again. The anger that had crossed that - oh, so beautiful! - face was gone, and the eyes were clear pools of burgundy once again. The Demon seemed to have regained control of himself. Marzio watched his every move, and gave him a reproachful glance as their eyes met. It drew no emotion. Ignis - 'No, His Highness,' Marzio corrected himself instantaneously - sat down again, and gestured towards Kelan and Marzio. 

"All right then. Split them up. Take General Zain-Reil to a different tent. His captain will join him there." He looked up at Tempesta, a trustful shadow behind his back, who had placed a delicate gloved hand on his shoulder in reassurance. He covered that hand with his own, and squeezed it a little. 

She nodded. "I shall think of a suitable punishment, later. Take them away." 

The guards grabbed him, one at each side. He went with them voluntarily, but stopped for a moment just before exiting, to look back. The flaming eyes were fixed on him, _disturbingly_ fixed on him, and the prince slightly lowered his head. "Marzio," he whispered, loud enough for the Angelian to hear him. 

To his shame, Kelan tried to break free. It was useless, of course, and it would only make things worse. 

He was suddenly pushed from behind and found himself being taken in the direction opposite to the tent he had shared with the Lords. The thought that Ceni would be with him was reassuring, though. At least the prince had made that clear. 

Marzio's newly assigned tent was closer to those of the Demonis General Staff. He was given a push inside, and left alone in the small tent. He calmed himself and looked around. To his surprise, he found his own captain staring back at him from one of the two chairs at the small table. His things were there too - minus armour and weapons, of course. 

"What the...?" He blinked several times, not believing his eyes. 

"They brought me here just after they took Kelan away," Ceni informed him on the spot. "Brought our things, too." 

He nodded. Had this been the plan all along? Had the Prince decided it even before Marzio's fight with Kelan? 

The Angelian general was still upset about being kept in the dark about Ignis' identity. Yet the signs had been there all along, subtle and seemingly unimportant things. The bows as he passed; the deep respect; the unquestioned submission to his orders. He had thought it was because he was Dreak, or maybe Tempesta's protégé. He had been utterly mistaken. 

But his angered dissolved into something else when the Demon's words came back to him. Whispered words, that he had ignored when they had been spoken, lost in the aftermath of a battle none of them had wanted to win. _"There is something you must know about me... I am..."_

'Ignis Sagni-Dor, the Prince of Demonis,' Marzio added in his mind. 

"General?" Ceni asked. 

He looked up at the man, not even realizing until that very moment that he had sat down on the low pallet in one corner. "Hmm?" 

"You seemed preoccupied. Will it be harsh?" 

"What will be harsh?" 

"Your punishment for trying to beat up Kelan this morning." 

"I don't know," he whispered. "It will probably be nothing, really. Nothing compared to what just happened in _Meris Ignis_ ' tent." 

The irony in his words caught the Second-in-Command's attention. The man was now waiting for him to continue. 

"Kelan's lack of ability to keep his mouth shut may have doomed us all. Remember what I've asked you before the battle? If you thought Meris Ignis could be the Prince of Demonis?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"We were both wrong, Ceni. Wrong in assuming he _wasn't_." 

He gained a little victory, that day. The look on Ceni's face was priceless. 

* * *

It was over. All he had dared hope for was over. It would never happen... 

Once again, he was pulled out of his musings by Tempesta's voice. "Ignis? Khest! Ignis, talk to me!" 

He blinked, looking around to find himself in his tent. Tempesta was bending over him, worried. Yet she did not touch him, as she had done so many times before. She was afraid. All would be afraid, from now on. 

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just fine." 

She didn't believe him. "You are not. What happened? I've never seen you like this before." 

"He ruined everything. _Everything_. That man..." his voice trembled with fury again. "That man... I won't have him in front of me again..." 

She didn't quite understand his words. "Which one, Ignis? Which man?" 

He was astonished. "Are you stupid?" he asked her. "Or are you just pretending to be?" 

"Ignis, honestly..." 

"Oh, or maybe you think I am the one who has lost his mind?" he continued. He wanted her gone. He wanted to be alone. He needed to think this over. "Get out. Get out of here _now_. And don't you dare touch the General, you hear me!" 

"Ignis, I..." 

He looked at her, beseechingly. "Give me some time to calm down. We'll talk in the morning. It will be all right, but I need to be alone. I'm _ordering_ you to go." 

She was shocked. Only once before had he given her orders in such unquestionable terms, and that time things had gotten really ugly. But she didn't dare disagree. She bowed and left the tent. 

As she did, Ignis pulled out his sword and with a low growl he slashed at the curtain dividing the confining space in two different rooms. Again, and again, and again, until all there was left were hanging shreds. 

Having calmed down a little, he thrust the weapon in a faraway corner and leaned forward on the small table supporting the washing basin, looking at his face in the small polished mirror placed nearby. 

"What has happened to you?" he asked his reflection. "What did you just do?" 

He thrust himself fully clothed on the soft cushions and buried his head in the heavy mass of silk. 

* * *

When he woke up in the morning, he was once again in full control of himself. He slowly washed, and changed his clothes to some that bore no resemblance to any uniform he could think of. He ended up fully dressed in black, a rare event indeed. 

His young attendant carefully avoided his gaze as he came in, as if not to offend him. He gave the boy the day off, and was rewarded with an awed glance and a quickly whispered 'thank you' as Kheerah fled the tent. He was sure the whole camp was by now familiar with his outburst. 

He smiled. There was only one person who could help him now, one he had never thought he would ask. 

Owen. 

He left the tent and asked the guard positioned outside of Tempesta's whereabouts. "The General is in her tent, with Captain Alisi-Feit, Your Highness," the man reverently informed him. He looked scared to death, in spite of Ignis' obvious good spirits. 

So Ignis made his way to the adjoining tent, knocking at the pole near the entrance. There was a little noise, as if he had interrupted something. He could imagine what that was, but preferred to pretend he knew nothing about it. 

"Come in," Owen's voice finally answered, a little too quickly. 

Ignis lifted the drape and went in, seeing the two whispering over the table that had been set for breakfast. They did not pay much attention to him, busy trying to look like they were eating. 

"Is this a secret meeting, or do I get to be included in your scheming as well?" he cheerfully asked. 

The two looked up at him, startled. They had clearly not expected him there. 

"Oh, relax! It's not like you haven't seen me furious before. Owen, _you_ did, remember?" 

Tempesta looked back at the other man. "When?" 

"The Monastery, seven years ago," the Captain of the Guards confirmed. "And I was the one he was angry with." 

"And since you are still alive, I guess it was not as bad as it first seemed," Ignis laughed. "Really, there is no reason for you to run away from me. I'm the same as ever. I just needed an outlet, that's all." 

"Kheerah told us you had a little fencing practice last night," Tempesta confessed. 

"I did not order you out just because I wanted to, and you know it. Now, what was going on in here?" 

"I was trying to reassure Tempesta you'll calm down again," Owen replied. It was obvious he told half the truth, but again Ignis ignored it. What they did in their spare time was alone their business. "She didn't seem convinced, though. What's with the clothing?" 

"Nothing, actually. It just happened. And how are our prisoners faring today?" 

"Ignis, it's barely seven. They aren't even up yet!" Owen replied. Then, somewhat guiltily, he added, "Well, _one of them_ didn't sleep all night, but..." 

"...but it's General Zain-Reil, and Tempesta said I wasn't supposed to know about it, right?" 

Owen nodded. "You said you didn't want to see him," Tempesta retorted. 

"Not this 'him'; the _other_ one." Ignis sneered. "Now, I intend to pay a little visit to the General later today, and I want one of you to make sure he is all alone when I do this."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Meris Owen was officially still on leave, but he stopped by anyway and made sure Marzio and Ceni were comfortable with their new accommodations. Then he asked Ceni to join him for lunch. That left Marzio all alone, and he had nothing better to do than lunge back on the pallet and try to catch up on his sleep. 

He had barely closed an eye, thinking and re-thinking about the whole situation. The first conclusion he came up with was that Ignis would have told him the truth, had they not been interrupted. Another one was that, now, the Demon would never look for him again. 

That face... He had seen the man behind the mask. A face he was sure the prince hid very carefully, and the Angelian wondered if he showed it often. Probably not. The Demons had looked as terrified as he had been. 

Someone came in. Lunch, he thought, hearing the sound of plates being arranged on the small table. He didn't bother to open his eyes, instead he imagined he was back home, and all this had been just another nightmare. His mother was there, looking beautiful in her long ivory garments, his sister and her husband, and his uncle with his long white hair. And there was someone else too, but he could not make out the person's face. Who was it? He wanted to take a better look, and... 

"Would you care to join me, or would you rather stay there all day?" 

He jumped up at the exact same words he had spoken nearly a week ago, and turned to see one very calm prince looking back at him, elegantly seated in one of the chairs. 

'This is certainly unexpected,' Marzio decided. 

"I was rather hoping you'd have lunch with me, seeing that my usual companions are either too busy or too frightened to do so. Oh well..." Ignis made to get up and leave, but the Angelian hurried to stop him. 

"No, wait! Your Highness! Please! Stay!" 

Before he knew it, he had Ignis' forearm in a tight grip. The Prince's eyes flashed, and Marzio instantly thought he had gone too far and offended him. 

But the Demon actually laughed, and used his other hand to pry the officer's fingers from his arm. He sat down again. "I thought you and I had an agreement. You would call me by my first name and I would do the same. Does that still stand?" 

"Yes, of course, Your Highn- I mean... Ignis." 

He had to force the name past his lips to get it out. It felt like sacrilege. The Demons would indeed be very furious if they ever found out. 

But the mild smile that lighted Ignis' face was worth his little effort. "Much better. Lunch, then?" 

Marzio did not recognize anything on the platters. So he settled to stare as Ignis loaded his plate with something that looked like roast beef, though it certainly didn't smell like it, and some salad from a large bowl. 

That did not go unnoticed. "I thought you might want to try something different for a change. Don't worry, it's all edible." 

As Ignis kept smiling, Marzio reticently picked up some of the same meat and took a little piece to his mouth. 'Edible' was an understatement. It smelled strange, agreed. But it was also the most delicious steak he had ever eaten. "What _is_ this?" 

"Deer," the Demon replied. "There is plenty of game in this region, for those who know where to look for it." 

A very expensive delicacy, in Angelia. Yet he remembered eating mountain deer at a banquet he had attended in Mnemon. Only it had tasted quite different. 

"It is all in the way you prepare it," came the answer to his musings, though he did not remember voicing them. "Different ingredients give venison different tastes." 

"My compliments to the chef," he managed in between bites. 

Ignis chuckled. "That's why I never leave home without him!" 

Marzio fully dug into the meal now, not caring what it was anymore. It all tasted very good, and was skilfully prepared. Nothing but the best for the Prince of Demonis. 

* * *

"Did you enjoy the books I have sent you?" Ignis asked him some time during the second course. 

"I never got to thank you for your kindness. They are very interesting. The History proved quite helpful in trying to understand some aspects of your culture." 

"I do not believe our people are that different, Marzio. We were the same, long ago, remember?" 

That earned Ignis a stare he would not easily forget. "There are many differences, and you know it damn well." 

"Arguing with the Prince, are you?" Ignis teased, no authority in his words. 

"Is that not why you came?" the Angelian shot back. 

Ignis looked away, a faint blush colouring the pale cheeks. He shook his head a little, the loose strands partially hiding his face. A fleeting smile crossed his lips again. 

So there was more to this visit than Marzio had initially suspected. 

It was the general's turn to rise and circle the table, stopping a few feet away from the prince. Ignis refused to acknowledge his presence, or at least to meet his eyes. 

"Why are you really here?" Marzio asked gently. 

No answer, just the silence between them. Marzio suspected what was troubling the young prince, but he could not be certain. Nobody seemed to know what was really going on in that stunning head of his. 

He caught sight of a delicate hand lying on the table. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched his fingers to the impossibly white flesh. Such paleness... It made his slightly tanned skin look much darker in comparison. 

He remembered reading about this. There were some Demon children born with pale skin and red hair; the 'Chosen', they had been called. But in spite of the mentioning, nothing was really revealed about them. They were the 'Chosen of Drako', which the Demons considered their Supreme God, and were always treated with respect and admiration. 

Had such 'different' children been born in Angelia, they would have been hunted down as witches. 

Seeing that Ignis was not rejecting his touch, he carefully picked up the man's hand and cradled it in his own. He bent down to press his lips on one knuckle. Still nothing. He entwined his fingers with the Demon's, turning the slender hand around to study it more attentively. It was a warrior's hand, with the calluses one got from training with weapons. But the fingers were long, slender and perfectly manicured. He imagined them deftly running over the strings of a harp. Or maybe... 

Ignis startled and suddenly turned to face him, wide-eyed. But surely, he could not read minds! 

The previously inert hand now gripped his, with the strength Marzio had guessed in the man but had not yet experienced directly. It was like an iron grip, and he could not pull away. Pain crossed his body and he winced. 

It only lasted for a brief moment. The Demon let go and extracted his hand from Marzio's, placing it securely in his lap. 

They both sighed. 

Now the prince faced Marzio again, a wicked smile on his lips. These mood changes were getting very unsettling. 

"So then, Marzio... what about dessert?" 

Dessert? Food? How had they ended up where they had begun? 

The smile turned playful. "Well, there is fruit, and wine... or maybe you would prefer something different?" 

'What are you up to, Your Highness?' There was a change in the man's gaze, visible only to those who knew what to look for. Mischief, yes. Other things too. Hope, interest. Desire? 

Ignis stood to face him, and now the Angelian had to look up a little in order to maintain eye contact. He had the strange feeling of the prince towering over him, even though he was not that much taller, and considerably thinner than he was. 

The slender hands reached out and cupped Marzio's face. The burgundy eyes were fixing him for any sign of emotion. Marzio didn't falter. If this was a test, what would happen if he failed it? 

Ignis drew nearer, and he could feel the man's power radiating from his body. But this had nothing to do with physical strength. He remembered there were some Angelian courtiers who considered the Prince of Demonis reigned only in name. The young man before him was his own master, and master of all those around him. Underestimated, yes. But it was like underestimating a desert tiger. 

Their bodies were nearly touching now, and the places on his cheeks where the hands still rested were burning. What next? 

Petal lips touched his. Still testing him? But what was the correct answer? 

Marzio suddenly realized the night in the tent had not been a dream. Just as the kiss the day before had not been one. But could the Angelian get over all that he had been taught? That the Demons were the enemy, that they would destroy everything one held for valuable? Could he abandon himself to his feelings, for once? 

'Seleh, help me! Drako, he is _your_ servant. What should I do?' 

The silken lips brushing his led him to the answer. It was hard, and it was going to get even harder. But he wanted it, like nothing else he had ever wanted in the thirty years of his life. 

He gave up. It suddenly did not matter anymore. If he failed the test he was subjected to, at least he would have a sweet reminder for the days to come. 

He circled the Demon's waist with his right arm, and Ignis allowed him to achieve the contact. He wanted to tangle his free hand in the silky hair again, but did not feel like ruining the fine plait, so instead he caressed the soft feathers of the Demon's wings. He parted his lips invitingly, and waited. 

He did not have to wait for long. 

Things went slower this time, and they savoured each moment, taking in the other's taste. Short fleeting kisses alternated with long deep ones, as they were not pressured to end it any time soon. 

The sound of a horn suddenly interrupted them. 

"Gods!" the Demon exclaimed, pulling back and trying to untangle himself from Marzio's embrace. "We won't be getting anywhere if they keep interrupting us like this." 

Marzio quickly recovered. "Maybe you should order them not to." 

"And have them doing it on purpose?" Ignis straightened his clothes, and gave him an apologetic look. "This could be important." 

Right then, Owen found it proper to enter the tent. He looked around suspiciously, but there was no sign left of what had just happened between the two. 

"Ignis, the emissary you sent to Quiris has just returned, with a missive from the King of Angelia." 

Marzio froze. Ignis' eyes shone with a brand new emotion. Anxiousness. "Council. My tent. Ten minutes." And Owen was off again. Then he turned to Marzio. "I hope your monarch was wise enough to accept our terms. I shall send someone to tell you the result." 

Marzio nodded and watched the Prince of Demonis leave. Not one second after, Ceni came in. "What was that about?" 

"They may be deciding our fate as we speak. Now sit down and tell me if you managed to get anything out of the captain." 

"Nothing. Any luck with His Highness?" 

"Not a thing. He somehow avoided all my questions and we ended up discussing other matters at hand." 

His captain did not seem very comfortable with this topic. "I could guess what those were, but..." 

" _What_?" Marzio asked him, stunned. 

"Come now, Marzio. I am not blind. I have seen the way you've been looking at each other." 

The general forced himself to laugh. "You are right. You will be better off not guessing anything." 

* * *

An hour passed, and both Ceni and Marzio had begun to lose their patience. What was taking them so long? Ignis was not the type to linger too much over problems that could be easily solved. And they were talking about a yes or no answer. 

Finally, Ceni broke the silence. "For everybody's sake, I hope His Majesty has accepted whatever they asked for." 

Marzio laughed bitterly. "I would have given ten years of my life to see the expression on his face when he received Ignis' letter. It must have been priceless." 

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure Princess Selena will tell you all about it," the captain reassured him. "By the way, since when do you call the Prince of Demonis by name?" 

Marzio glared at him. "I do _not_." 

"Well, you just did. Of course, I'm not planning on telling anyone; but still, don't you think it's a little disrespectful?" 

So it had slipped. The general was about to make one of his wry remarks when the curtain shifted, and General Neri-Lokh entered the tent. If the questioning looks she received disturbed her, she gave no sign of it. Instead, she looked at them seriously. "Good afternoon, my lords." 

"To what do we owe the honour of your presence, your ladyship?" Marzio asked formally. They already knew the reason she was there. 

"I believe you were expecting some news. His Highness insisted that I came personally... to break it to you gently." 

Both general and captain took a deep breath, preparing themselves for the worst. 

She smiled. "The good news is that the King of Angelia has agreed to our demands." They both sighed in relief, but she continued. "General Zain-Reil, the bad news is that you shall have to remain with us for a little longer." 

Marzio's eyes widened. "All of us? But I thought you did not have the necessary resources to feed so many people!" 

"We do, actually.... but you misunderstood my words. _You_ will have to stay. And the four Lords as well. The rest are free to return to Angelia." 

She was very direct in her approach, Marzio noted. He looked at her questioningly. "I fear I do not comprehend. If His Majesty agreed to sign the treaty..." 

Tempesta cut him off swiftly. "That he did. But we have no guarantee that he will do so after your release. Therefore, His Highness Prince Sagni-Dor and his General Staff have considered it necessary to retain the most important prisoners until a negotiation party will be sent." 

Things were starting to make some sense. "And how long will this be?" Marzio asked her. Spending the winter in Demonis had not initially been part of his plan. And with Kelan and his group too... it was going to be a long season! 

She seemed to understand him perfectly. "We are reasonable persons, General. As soon as the delegation reaches Aquiline, you and your four countrymen are free to return to Angelia. And I'm sure that His Highness will do everything within his power to make your stay enjoyable." 

Yes, Ignis would probably do that. But what would happen to his soldiers? Who will lead them back home? Who could organize everything? 

He turned to Ceni and spoke solemnly, "Looks like you're going to have the command of an army." 

The man stared back at him in disbelief. "But General, I cannot..." 

"Since we are offered no other choice," Marzio said, looking sharply at Tempesta for lack of a better substitute, "you will have to do so. Thank you for bringing us the news, General Neri-Lokh." 

She smiled again. "I was not finished. In order to celebrate this occasion, His Highness has ordered that a banquet be held tonight. You two are invited to join us - along with the Lords of the War Council, of course. They have already been informed of the situation, by the way." 

Marzio nodded. They had probably not taken it very nicely. But he was not planning on making a scene. "We thank you for your kindness. Please inform His Highness Prince Sagni-Dor that we shall be honoured to attend." 

What a big lie! All he wanted to do is keep as far away from it. Being present at the celebration of your defeat was not a very comforting situation. He could only hope Ignis' presence will make things somewhat easier for him. 

Tempesta left them, and they were once again alone with their own thoughts. There were so many things to be decided upon, details concerning the Angelian troops and their return home, and above all the wretched banquet Marzio and Ceni had to participate to that very evening. 

* * *

And a banquet it was. Outdoors, for the weather was nice. A great table had been set up for the Prince of Demonis and his guests, which meant Marzio would also have to face Lord Kelan that night. 

He was not in a particularly good mood, considering that he would be stuck in this foreign land for only the Gods knew how long, and with the lords of the War Council no less. He would also have to part with Ceni, his loyal captain, and abandon what was left of the Angelian Army. He had no doubt they would all return home safely, under the guidance of his Second-in-Command. 

But the thought of being blamed for their defeat by King and Court was not a very nice perspective. It would sadden his mother, and what would his uncle say? 

"Cheer up, Marzio!" Ceni said, walking beside him, "I will make sure all goes well." 

He sighed. "We both know that His Majesty will be furious, and who will get the blame for this defeat." 

The captain swore under his breath. "Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone will know what really happened. They will believe me. Most of them, anyway." 

'They' were the Court of Angelia. Ceni had many influential friends. But would that make a difference? 

The officer slapped his shoulder. "Come on! The important thing is that you do not blame yourself. Besides, you get to stay here with... well, with _him_! It has a certain appeal, wouldn't you say?" 

The thought of being in the presence of Prince Ignis filled Marzio's heart with a secret joy he had never experienced before. Still, he glared at his friend. "You take too much pleasure in embarrassing me on a regular basis. We have merely enjoyed each other's company several times, and that is all. There is nothing between us." His tone wouldn't have convinced a child. 

"Yeah, right. Keep on fooling yourself, Marzio!" Ceni pulled him towards the U-shaped table, where Captain Alisi-Feit was waiting for them. 

The Dreak wore a green velvet tunic that looked familiar to Marzio. He tried to remember where he had seen it before. He recalled Ignis' similar attire from the day before. It had to be some kind of uniform, though he had not seen it in battle or in any drawn representation. 

"There you are! We were beginning to wonder where you ended up." He inspected them closely, nodding in approval. "Nice clothes." 

Both Angelians were in high uniform, for an official banquet was not something to attend in every-day clothing. The only difference between them was that Ceni's tunic was a lighter shade of blue, and had less silver lining. The general had also donned his long purple cloak, a clear sign of his position in the Army. 

Marzio had already noted the Demons' preference for longer tunics and loose shirts, in opposition to their shorter and tighter clothing. He tried to imagine how they must have looked like, dressed in blue amidst the yellows and reds that made up the Demons' attire. 'An easy target,' he thought, but recalled that no one would dare touch them, since they were officially invited. Besides, except for the four Angelian Lords, everyone was of military formation. That helped relieved his mind a little. 

Owen guided them to the right side of the table, where Lord Angus already sat. The other three Lords were seated across of them, and the separating distance was quite welcomed. It seemed Ignis tried to avoid any source of open conflict. Whoever had distributed the places had been given precise orders. Marzio appreciated the consideration for his own choice of company. 

The prince had not arrived yet, but it looked like everyone else had. Owen left them to take his place next to Tempesta, at the right of an empty seat that was reserved for the young prince. It was strategically placed on the middle side, yet slightly to the left, next to a very bulky commander whose body probably blocked any sight of Kelan. And with Tempesta at his right, the prince would also have clear view of Marzio and his party. The general blushed furiously, thinking of what had transpired between the two of them so far. 

He was in a cheerful company, and the Demons did not seem to be bothered by having their enemies seated at the same table. This was probably also due to the wine carafes, which had been refilled twice by the time Ignis finally made his appearance, wearing the same green outfit Tempesta, Owen and five others did. Marzio came to the obvious conclusion that it was the uniform of the Dreak, and it was confirmed later on by the Demon seated next to him. 

Everyone rose to greet the prince, even Kelan, who was smiling maliciously, though Marzio had no idea for what reason. Ignis did not even bother to look at the old man - surveying the Lords was apparently Tempesta's job. Marzio was not in the same situation, for the Demon smiled softly as he fixed his burgundy eyes on the Angelian general. 

He motioned for all present to remain silent, and he addressed the congregation cordially. 

"My friends, I am very happy to see you gathered here on this joyous occasion. Tonight is a night of celebration. The King of Angelia, our long-time enemy, has finally agreed to a peace treaty between our two lands." 

Loud cheers erupted from the two dozen people. Ignis managed to keep a straight face on account of the foreigners present. Whatever his own opinions on the matter were, he kept them to himself. 

"I would like to request a favour from you all," the prince continued. 

All eyes fixed on him, for the sovereign making a request was not a frequent event. 'Whatever it is, it must be damn important,' Marzio thought. 

Maintaining the mask the Angelian was slowly getting used to, Ignis opened his arms in a clear gesture towards the two groups of Angelians. "Here among us are six high-ranked men, who up to this point we have considered our prisoners. Five of them will remain with us until the Angelian delegation arrives for the negotiations. I would like you all to think of them as our friends and honoured guests, and treat them accordingly." 

There was power behind the words, and hidden threat. Marzio was not the only one to notice it. Nobody would dare disobey the prince, even if the order was given in the form of an official request. The problem was, were the Demons pleased with this or not? 

Another cheer answered, and Marzio sighed in relief. Then Ignis sat down, and the rest followed suite. All the conversations that had been interrupted by his arrival took off where they had remained, and the Demons did not bother to prevent any of the Angelians to take part in them. Only Kelan and his two companions were whispering among themselves, looking carefully behind their shoulders every now and then, up to something, as usual. 'Blasted courtiers!' Marzio decided to leave them be and engaged in conversation with Ceni, Angus and the two officers seated next to them, slightly aware of Ignis' gaze on him every now and then. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

There was plenty of food and drink, and soft music, and all present seemed determined to enjoy themselves that night. Even Ignis, who was not very keen on banquets - or so Marzio had been told -, seemed to be having a good time, snickering at some joke or another, and smiling pleasantly to everyone. And, whenever his and Marzio's eyes would meet, the smile would turn into a dreaming stare. The Angelian was a little uneasy, but nobody seemed to notice their prince's interest on the handsome general. Or at least they pretended not to. 

Besides, Marzio himself was studying the Demons with interest every time he could do so without being too obvious about it, and he had caught various details that had escaped him before. His discussions with his table companions had been of great use, too, and he begun to draw his own conclusions. 

The Angelian High Commander found out that Ignis was truly loved and respected by his countrymen. No indecent things were being said about him, no sly remarks made. Of course, the dirty military humour did not steer clear of him and his deeds, but there was always a certain respect when his name came up in the conversation. No details of his personal life were revealed, either. 

Marzio, Ceni and Lord Angus were instantly accepted by their company, and for all his misconceptions and old-fashioned beliefs the lord had proven to be quite a pleasant man. He was also open-minded, and he was gradually accepted by his all-military company. Lords Kelan, Gettik and Elssi were a different story. A few indolent and offending remarks from them, and the Demons began avoiding their company. It did not seem to bother the three. 

"It looks like some things are not that different after all," he mused, catching the attention of the middle-aged major at his right. The man followed his gaze towards the group at the other side of the table, and smiled. 

"Oh, we have quite a few of those ourselves, in Aquiline. Still, there are some whose presence we can tolerate." He was of course referring to the officers' general reticence towards civilians. "I think these three would fit nicely with Lord Lavian's entourage." 

"Are you referring to the High Priest of Drako?" 

"Who else?" The man made a disgusted sound. "He often gives dear Ignis a hard time, you know. No wonder he tries to stay away from Court as much as possible." 

Marzio laughed, and took a sip of his wine, sympathizing with the prince. He was not bothered by the fatherly tone the man had used while referring to the young sovereign. It seemed it was common to all present, and never once had they made use of his title. The familiarity between the prince and his men was even greater than the one between Marzio and his subordinates. 

Other aspects caught his attention as well. For example, that the six women present were not excluded from the conversation, which he had partly expected. Tempesta, Owen and Ignis had a good time at the main table, always finding something to laugh at - or, in Ignis' case, to smile at. 

Sometime later, around midnight Marzio reckoned, the musicians that had entertained them began playing dancing songs, and the real party began. The Demons' music was cheery and beckoned for movement, and those present did not hesitate to show off their dancing talents. Tempesta proved to be an excellent dancer, and Marzio watched her moving on the wild rhythms, with Owen of all persons. The Captain was a bit shaky on his feet, probably because of the strong wine, but they made a nice pair. And there was something in the way they held each other that indicated they were a bit more than just good friends. 

Glancing at Ignis for a confirmation of his suspicions, he received a slight nod. Then, the prince slowly placed a finger across his lips, a seemingly casual gesture that bound Marzio to silence. This was not a topic opened to discussion, then. 

That dance being over, Ignis rose and asked Tempesta for the next. Again, all conversation miraculously ceased, as the two moved together on a slower tune. Marzio considered the Demon General a good dancer, but Ignis was by far the most astonishing one he had seen. The way he moved, holding one arm on the woman's hip and the other supporting her small palm, stirred a deep desire inside the Angelian. He could not manage to look away. 

"There are some who say they will get married one day," Owen's voice came into his ear, startling him. He had been too captivated by Ignis' graceful movements to notice anything else around him. 

Marzio turned to see the young captain grin, leaning over his chair. His eyes were a little blood-shot, and he smelled slightly of wine, yet he did not seem completely drunk. He leaned even closer, and his voice was low enough to allow no one else except Marzio to hear him. "Of course, things are not always as they seem. Am I right, Marzio?" 

The general blinked, a little surprised. The captain had never called him by his name before, and making such a statement in the presence of a foreigner was definitely strange. He could not refrain from asking back, "And do you know something that nobody else does, Meris?" 

The Dreak laughed, and seemed to lose his balance for a moment. He gripped at the chair for support. "Too much drink," he confessed, but did not answer Marzio's question. Instead, he asked another one of his own. "So, how are you feeling now, that you are our 'honoured guest'?" 

Marzio frowned. "Call it what you will, I am still a prisoner." 

"Of course you are. You know, he wanted to let you return to Angelia. But the rest thought you were too valuable a hostage. And there was no way to deny it." 

The general looked back at Owen. "And why would he be against me being here?" 

The man shrugged. "Beats me. Nobody knows what's going on in his head. He likes being mysterious and untouchable." 

"Even to his lovers?" 

It came out without thinking, and Marzio felt himself blushing violently, cursing himself and hoping the torchlight would hide the colour in his face. 

Owen leaned even closer, and his breath passed across Marzio's skin as the Demon spoke in his ear. "Ignis has no lovers anymore. Oh, there is the occasional tryst every now and then, but always with different partners. Nothing that would involve him emotionally. Not since Rasya died." 

Marzio blinked. 'No lovers? And who is this Rasya?' 

"You haven't heard this from me, you understand?" 

"Yes," he whispered back at the captain. 

He felt Owen leave, but paid no attention, too surprised to care about anything, his eyes searching for Ignis. The dance had ended, and both he and Tempesta were back at their places. Burning eyes met Marzio's green ones, and Ignis looked at him biting his lips, a hurt look on his face. The prince rose quickly and left the table, not bothering to apologize for his abrupt departure. 

Thanks to the wine-induced state, nobody noticed this. Nor did they seem to notice the Angelian general sneak away and follow Ignis to his tent, determined to find out what had drawn that reaction. 

* * *

Ignis was relieved to finally return to the darkness of his tent, alone with his thoughts at last. His heart raced as the scene replayed continuously in front of his eyes. Owen, leaning over Marzio, whispering something in his ear, his face hidden by the general's wavy golden locks. 

He leaned his arms on the heavy desk, trying to clear his mind. 'You are being stupid,' he berated himself. 'Why feel betrayed? The man means nothing to you!' 

But he knew he was only fooling himself. 'Why not just admit to it? You are deeply attracted to him.' This was not mere infatuation, as he had thought at first. It was something different. 

It was also the reason why he had wanted to let the general leave. He wanted him as far away as possible. Every time he looked at Marzio, his feelings would grow stronger. He was not willing to risk falling in love. He had tried to fight his desire. 

Only fate had betrayed him, this time. 

He breathed in deeply, and retired to the private section of the tent. If Marzio had toyed with him from the beginning, Ignis too held part of the fault. He had thought that the man felt the same as he did. But why should he? After all, they were enemies. 

But there was no denying Ignis' feeling of betrayal. Especially not with Owen involved. Their long rivalry had said its word in all this, and the fact that the Captain of the Guard was deeply in love with Tempesta and would not risk hurting her like this did not make him feel any better. 

A faint noise interrupted his train of thoughts. Someone else had entered the tent, treading carefully to mask his presence. Ignis' warrior senses flared into alertness. He gripped the pommel of his dagger and drew back in the shadows, ready to defend himself against an attacker. Silent footsteps approached, and the curtain drew back soundlessly, the dark form of a man slipping inside. 

Ignis jumped him instantly, but his arm accidentally caught in the curtain and pulling it free made the intruder aware of his presence. He ended up on the floor, his wrists caught in iron grips. He was preparing to use one of his defensive moves, but the sight of blonde hair and green eyes glittering in the darkness stopped him. As much as he wanted to break General Zain-Reil's neck at the moment, it was not a very wise move. He settled for struggling and waiting for the man to lower his guard a little. 

He drew in a sharp breath as the grip on his right wrist tightened, and let go of the dagger. The Angelian still pinned him down with his whole strength. "Were you planning to kill me, Your Highness?" 

That did it. An innocent smile spread on Ignis' lips, and Marzio stared back at him hesitantly, loosening his hold just a little. 

It was the chance the Demon needed. A well-placed kick, and soon their positions were reversed. The Dreak did not take any chances, and he made sure his opponent could not move an inch. The grin grew brighter. But Marzio smiled back at him, and it made him angry. He would not fall for his own trick. 

He pressed the dagger he had picked up again against the soft skin of the Angelian's neck. "Maybe I should, and get this over with, _your lordship_." 

Marzio flinched, but he kept smiling, ignoring the sharp weapon. "Did something upset you at the banquet? You left like a hurricane." 

'Why is he asking? He was just playing with me. He doesn't care,' Ignis' mind rebelled. 

Feeling his body begin to respond at Marzio's proximity, he let go and stood up, turning his back to the man. He put the blade back in its sheath, and folded his arms over his chest. He took a proud stance, and refused to give in to any weakness he might feel. "Like you would give a damn." A little reproach, but he hoped it had sounded cold enough to make his unexpected visitor leave. 

But Marzio misinterpreted him. Rising, he came closer. "I apologize if I have upset you in any way. Whatever it was, I have done it unintentionally." His words sounded like they were actually true. 

A light touch on his shoulder made Ignis turn around abruptly, brushing away the intruding hand. Eyes gleaming with fury, he refused to look back at the general. Being alone with him in a confined space did nothing to improve the situation. The attraction he felt grew stronger, and he fought hard to maintain control. He would not repeat past mistakes, and bleed again. 

But whatever the prince felt, he was not alone. Two strong hands caught his upper arms and pulled him forward, and before he could make any move Marzio's lips were on his. He froze, eyes wide in shock, forgetting all anger and hurt and betrayal. His mouth opened of its own free will, and he let himself drown into the heat. 

The general finally pulled back, smiling brilliantly. But his face fell as Ignis remained frozen into place, staring somewhere past him. 

"Ignis?" He shook him gently, and the prince pulled away in a sudden movement. 

"You have no right to be here!" he seethed, but he did not seem very sure of his words. 

"I was worried. You were so willing to share your thoughts with me earlier. Why do you now refuse to tell me what is wrong?" 

Ignis' control was slipping away once more. He grasped at it with all his force of will, not wanting to find himself in the same situation he had been in the day before. He did not want to hurt the Angelian. Or, better said, he would feel very guilty if he did. 

He suddenly realized that he was afraid of what could happen between them. 

_Afraid_. It sounded ridiculous, after all he had been through. Fear was not unknown to him, but this time it was different. He was afraid that Marzio would use him and then reject him. 

But the general had always seemed an honest man. Why would that change now? 

Ignis finally let go. "What do you want from me?" he asked, emotionally exhausted. 

Marzio seemed confused. "I already told you. I want to know what is bothering you." 

Supporting his head with one hand, Ignis sighed. "Nothing, really. I did not want to get in your way when you and Owen seemed to get along so well, that's all." 

A short laugh erupted from Marzio's lips. "Really, this is silly. I never..." He stopped abruptly, realizing that the young man might be actually feeling something that looked like jealousy. Or betrayal. 

He drew near the prince and caressed his hair. "Ignis, trust me, there is nothing between me and your friend." He watched the beautiful face rise to look at him, and placed his lips on Ignis' once more. 

Contrasting emotions raced through Ignis' heart, but this time he did not reject Marzio. He pulled him closer, feeling his body heat up with passion and his pulse quicken. 

Then, he remembered where they were. This place was not safe for such things. Guest or no guest, the Angelian was still officially under surveillance. If anyone noticed he was gone from the feast table, the whole camp would be in uproar. And finding him in the prince's tent involved in some private activities was not a bright prospect for either of them. 

The decision was difficult, nevertheless it was made. Besides, Ignis really had to think this over before taking a clear decision about the course of things. He pushed the general away, a lot gentler then the first time. His eyes begged for understanding, and his voice trembled slightly. He picked his words carefully. "I am really sorry, but you can't stay here tonight. Things could get... out of control. I don't want to compromise your situation." 

Marzio seemed to understand, his fingers stroked Ignis' cheek, and the Demon turned his face to place a kiss in the hollow of his palm, before taking it in his own and slowly removing it. He smiled shyly and placed a quick kiss on the general's lips. 

Marzio turned around and left without further words, returning to the banquet with little desire to be there again. Thankfully, no one had noticed his absence. He apologized to the others, and retired in his tent, dimly aware that guards followed his every move. 

'And he foresaw this, of course. He doesn't do anything without a reason.' Now Marzio understood what the prince had meant by 'compromising'. 

* * *

The day of his countrymen's departure came all too quickly. And knowing they would all get safely to their homes, Marzio could not stop worrying about the whole situation. He envied those leaving, especially Ceni. He could not help feel happy that his trusted friend would be spared the humiliation of having failed the King's expectations. And even if deep within his heart he knew he bore no fault, his mind told him that he would be the one King Teh-Kai would hold responsible. He even wondered if this whole campaign had not been a cover set to discredit him in the eyes of the Court of Angelia. 

But no; it was too cruel a concept to actually believe it. The lives of so many men wasted for just one's shame was a sacrifice his monarch could not make easily. 

So he tried to focus on making sure everything went smoothly, that everybody had the necessary things one would need. Their road would lead south, and they would cross the river in the city-port of Tulse, where there lay no danger of drowning if one accidentally took a wrong step. They would be escorted by armed Demon troops, and all the confiscated weapons had left for Tulse at least a week before the actual convoy departed the camping site. 

Ceni looked great in his new role, even if he insisted that he would never make a good High Commander, and that would always be Marzio's position no matter what he said. But the Angelian general knew that, for a young captain such as Ceni, this was a dream come true. 

Of course Kelan had opposed to this decision, but surprisingly enough his friends had not backed him up, for once. Marzio knew he had Lord Angus' silent support, and hoped they had all understood where they stood, and how dearly they would pay for disobeying their captors' commands. 

The only thing that brightened his mood a little was the fact that, wherever Ignis went, he would probably go too. And having the Prince's company was going to help him from going mad. Every day, he wondered if the young man would come visit again, or ask that he came to his tent. 

But nothing happened. They met around camp on several occasions, but there was no way they could talk privately under the surveying sight of several dozen people. So all they could do was act civil and draw as little attention as possible. Marzio had had some difficulty with the part at first; Ignis none so ever - he was used to doing it all the time. 

Then, one day before the Angelians would finally leave, when even the slightest detail had been dealt with and nothing could go wrong, Ignis suddenly vanished, and so did his Personal Guard. Tempesta had been left in charge of everything, and Marzio kept asking himself what had happened and why had Ignis not informed him in any way about what was going on. 

The Angelians left, and three days went by before camp was finally broken and they departed for Aquiline. During this period, the general was witness to a strange phenomenon. One by one, the units that had been encamped in the large clearing left in various directions. All was done in a well-organized way, and nobody complained that they would not leave earlier, or that a certain unit had left sooner. 

The Palace Guard and one cavalry squadron were the only ones to remain behind. On the third day, at dusk, the Angelians were informed to pack their things, for they would leave for Aquiline early the next morning. Which they did, and on a faster pace than anticipated, considering that the four civilians were not used to riding this fast. A carriage had been provided for them, and Tempesta had threatened them to stop complaining or else she would cut out their tongues on the spot. This particular threat had been addressed to Lord Kelan, of course, and managed to attain the desire effect - the man shut up instantly. 

Tempesta had not even bothered to ask Marzio if he would prefer to ride with the four. Instead, she told him openly that he would better stay within her sight, which led to them riding side by side somewhere in front. He resolved that he would ask her a couple of questions as soon as they were comfortable with each other's presence. 

The scenery was breathtaking, and the mountains bordering both sides of the road were more than the Angelian had ever hoped for. They would leave even the highest hills of Angelia to shame, and were covered by thick forests of evergreen. There was snow on top, and the sun reflected onto it in a million rays if he looked up. Waterfalls that roared down the rocks completed what was a picturesque landscape, and he wished he would have been a painter, so that he could preserve the sight in front of his eyes. The road they took was paved and well-kept, which meant that it was one of the main commerce roads in Demonis. There were villages scattered here and there, or lonely inns that would welcome any traveller. They stopped at these for their night's rest, and after five days of travel they were met by the sight of a city in the distance. 

"Is that Aquiline?" he demanded the Demon general. 

Tempesta had been extremely quiet during their journey, for no apparent reason he could think of. But Marzio did not think it was his fault; she did not look at him in anger or anything. And the rest of the soldiers had given him some information, admittedly reluctant at the contact at first, but then a little more friendly. He thought the men and women were even beginning to like him. 

But this time, the woman laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, General! It is one of our main towns, Gheest. It does not hold a candle compared to the capital. You shall see!" 

They avoided the town, though a few soldiers were sent to purchase provisions, and stopped at about two hours distance, in a village whose name Marzio did not remember. The locals were extremely friendly, just as he had come to expect. And the village, albeit small and probably of no great economic importance, looked extremely wealthy in comparison to its Angelian equivalent. 

That evening, after supper, he remained in front of the fireplace in the inn's hall for longer than usual. He thought he was alone, and his thoughts began to wonder as a little cough drew his attention as a person sat next to him. It was General Neri-Lokh, looking exactly the same she had ever since he had met her, but yet different in a way he could not describe. 

"You seemed deep in thought tonight, general. Does something bother you?" 

Small talk. She knew very well it was so. 

"Nothing much. I was wondering... how long until we reach the capital?" 

A slight smile crossed her lips. Strangely, it was not ironical. "You miss him already?" she asked, looking Marzio in the eyes. 

He was astounded. "I - I'm sorry, but I do not understand..." 

"Ignis. Do you miss him already?" she repeated. Seeing the shocked expression on his face, she felt compelled to explain, "He told me the two of you had something going on. Now, would you please answer my question?" 

Still feeling a little strange about what her words implied, he nodded. "I do... a little." 

This time, Tempesta giggled. "A little more. I have studied you, you know. For all these days, I have studied you carefully, to see if..." 

Her voice trailed off, and the room was silent for a moment. But she began again, without Marzio being forced to ask her what she had meant. 

"I know Ignis likes you a great deal. And now I am certain the feeling is mutual. But keep in mind one thing, General. If you hurt him in any way, I will hunt you down and kill you without remorse, understood?" 

The Angelian had a faint idea what this was all about. He nodded in agreement, and looked at the woman seriously. "Is it because of Rasya?" 

She blanched. "Who told you that name?" she asked, not furiously but visibly disturbed. 

It was bad, then. "Meris Alisi-Feit mentioned it once, I believe. But all he said is that she has been his lover. I did not imagine there was more to it than that." 

She sighed, looking vulnerable for the first time they had met. "Then you don't know what happened between Ignis and her, right?" 

He thought the worse. "No, I'm sorry. Did she... hurt him? Betray him?" 

"No," Tempesta said, in a sad voice. Then she looked him straight in the eyes. "You must promise me you will never repeat the words I will tell you tonight. To anyone, and especially to Ignis. Understood?" 

"I swear upon my honour," he said firmly. 

"Very well," she began. "Rasya Talien-Kay was an officer in his Personal Guard when he returned to Aquiline, five years ago. She was an extraordinary woman, and I can certify to that. They became friends in a short time, and lovers a few months later. Everybody thought he would take her as his Consort... and he would have probably done so." She took a few sips of wine before continuing. "It was not meant to be, though. Three years ago, Ignis was the mark of an assassination attempt. Rasya jumped right in front of him, and took the arrow full in her chest. She died in his arms, almost instantly." 

Marzio remained silent as the Demon general regained her composure. "The basic story, I know. The bodyguard takes the hit, and the Prince's life is saved. But it affected Ignis greatly." 

"I can imagine that," Marzio whispered. "He is a very sensitive person." 

He could feel her eyes digging into him as she studied him carefully. "I do not have his ability to read people the instant I meet them," she confessed. "But you do not strike me as the type that would hurt someone just to see him suffer. I hope I am right." 

"You have had plenty of opportunities to judge that." 

She smiled bitterly. "I probably have. I must warn you of a few things, though. First of all, be honest with him. He tends to be aggressive with people who lie to him in the face. And one way or another, he always finds out about it. There were a few highborn who fell in disgrace because of it." 

Marzio was not at all surprised to find this out. He had not had an opportunity to lie to the prince so far, but even when he had been hiding something Ignis had made him say it. "It is as if he can read your mind," he told the woman, and she assented. 

"Secondly, no politics in the bedroom. He promised this to the whole Court the day of his coronation, and he has proved true to his word ever since. He would not deny his bed partners one favour or another, but nothing that has to do with politics." 

"Because his father was too easily influenced?" Marzio inquired. It seemed likely, considering that his own King was being manipulated this way without him realizing it. 

Tempesta frowned. "You assume things too easily, General. But that is correct, and Ignis was aware of it ever since his mother died." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "And Lavian lost his position as the Prince's personal advisor for it, after Ignis became sovereign." 

Well, that would at least explain the man's absence in the Demon battle camp. 

"Is there a third point?" he asked the Demon officer. 

"All things good in life are three," she said caustically. "If you force him into something he does not desire, I shall..." 

"... hunt me down and kill me without remorse, I know. General, did anyone tell you worry too much? I mean, Ign- His Highness is an adult, you know." 

She laughed and stood up to leave. "You're already calling each other by your first names? He moved fast this time, I see." 

Marzio saw it fit not to mention it had actually been his idea. 

"Anyway, if you do, then feel free to do so in my presence as well." She continued, "I know I'm overprotective... but he is like a little brother to me. And I am not the only one to care for him, so beware!" She started to go up the stairs, but turned around at the last moment, her face solemn. "I know you will eventually end up sleeping together - be careful whom you trust with that secret. And good luck!" 

After she left, Marzio returned at staring into the fire. 'I knew he was loved by his subjects, but not this much,' he reasoned. 'Had Ignis not suggested she was Owen's lover, I would think she looked at him very differently from a brother!' 

* * *

**~ The End of Part One~**  


* * *


	9. Chapter 9

## Part Two - Dance of the Dragons

**Chapter Nine**

General Zain-Reil stared at the high buildings rising about them, dark in the early morning light. Aquiline was a huge city, perhaps larger than Mnemon, the Angelian capital. Seen from the top of one of the hills surrounding it, it had looked like a giant, occupying the entire plateau, the houses long ago having slipped past the fortified walls and watch towers. 

Tempesta had refused stopping that night, saying they would get plenty of rest after reaching the city, and that she did not want to get there in the middle of the day. Marzio did not blame her - he too would have avoided the crowd that was bound to gather. Town people were generally curious, and he doubted Demons were different in this domain. He remembered the trips he had taken to the three city-ports of the Mauri Confederation, and the way everybody had gathered to stare at him and his escort as they had passed through. 

By day, the capital city of Demonis would probably be overflowing with people, but very few were awake this early in the morning, and even fewer dared show themselves. An emissary had been sent to the palace to announce their arrival in advance, and now the party made its way through the maze of streets and markets, carefully avoiding the three main access roads. Sneaking into the city had been easier than expected, even with the Lords' carriage. Luckily, it was not one of those used by nobles when taking a ride outside their homes, but a sturdy travel carriage that could be easily led by a good driver. It was one of the reasons why that had made such good timing on the road. 

Two weeks had passed since he had last seen Ignis, and his heart carved for the sight of the young prince. No doubt, he would be there to greet them... 

From the Demon Supreme Commander he had learned that Ignis had left so abruptly because of a situation that required his immediate presence in Aquiline. Marzio had had a few discussions with her after the one at the inn, and even if the woman did not seem too enthusiastic about his presence there she had not been as hostile as one would have expected. He even thought she actually understood his position, and even if she did not approve of his relationship with Ignis she would probably not do anything against it either. 

As they had continued their route towards the capital city of Demonis, his thoughts of the young prince had begun to change a little. Of course, he still wanted the man, and not just because of what he represented but for other reasons as well. But a grain of doubt clouded those thoughts. Now that he was back in his palace, where no doubt the nobles and servants would answer his every whim, what use would Ignis have to be around him? The Angelian was sure at least half the people at Court would sleep with the handsome prince without a second thought. And Marzio did not want to be just another cheap fuck in his eyes. 

These thoughts were not in accordance with the impression Ignis had left on him, or with what Owen and Tempesta had either said or suggested. They were just his fears, fed by the general's experience with the highborn in Mnemon. All one needed was a title and some wealth and everyone would be at that person's feet. Nobody gave a damn about such things as love anymore. 

Well, perhaps nobody except Marzio and a few others. He wondered if things were different in Aquiline. From what he had seen and learned so far, the Demons were a passionate people, and that should make a difference in the long run. 

At any rate, there was nothing he could do about it, and the thought of seeing Ignis was intoxicating, to say the least. 

"Pretty nice, wouldn't you say?" someone asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a familiar face; the major that had been seated next to him at the banquet table, dressed in cavalry uniform, was riding alongside him, a smug smile on his lips. 

"Bet you ain't seen the likes in Angelia," the man continued, undisturbed by the weary look on Marzio's face. "Aquiline's the finest city this side of the Mauri, if you ask me." 

The Angelian nodded. "I hope it's not this quiet during the day. That would be very disturbing." 

The major - whose name eluded the general at that moment - let out a short laugh. "Nay, dear sir, 'tis as loud as a wasp nest! You should see all the merchants and people swarming; you'd easily lose your way without a proper guide. I doubt you'll be allowed to take a walk without an escort, though. Which's a pity, really - merchants and their likes keep their tongue when the guard's around to hear." 

"I doubt they would talk with me as it is, Major. I'm Angelian, remember?" 

"Not to worry, sir," another rider from further back replied, shooting him an amused look. "There's many of them from Angelia and Terlandia with business in the city. Ya' only convince the young prince to give ya' and yer escort civil clothing. They won't bat an eye as ya' pass!" 

The presence of foreign traders surprised Marzio, but he probably should have expected it. After all, Demonis had always held open trade with Terlandia and the Mauri Confederation. They had no reason to restrict Angelians' presence there, or in any other city. He wondered why his own people had to be so hard-headed about keeping this from happening. He could only think about benefits for both sides. 

"Mind it now, general," the major cut in again, "we're getting into the Noblemen's Quarter. See the difference between the houses here and the ones we passed?" 

And so on. He was offered information about the city without having to ask for it, and by the time the palace gates came into view his head was swarming with a thousand facts on trade, architecture and even some spicy details concerning persons he couldn't possibly know. 

They passed the carved iron gates and entered a huge garden, and then rode for another fifteen minutes before reaching the palace courtyard. The building itself was huge, and set in the middle of a park that did not serve just for walks, but also held some military training facilities - or so the Demons told him, for tall trees hid anything of the sort from sight. Right in the middle of an immense stone-paved yard, the Royal Palace of Aquiline rose in all its glory. It was a huge construction, not built as a fortified castle but more like a country estate, only of greater proportions. A magnificent marble staircase led up to the main entrance, which was sculptured ebony with gold carvings, and was flanked by two marble statues, one representing a woman holding a sword and the other of a man holding a battle flag - made from real material in the colours of the Royal House of Demonis. 

They dismounted and the Angelian lords were finally allowed out of the carriage - with the necessary complaints about their sleep being disturbed at such early hour. The Demons ignored those and Marzio joined the four as they were led up the staircase and inside the castle. 

Kelan hardly acknowledged the general's presence, but the other three nodded in his direction and Lord Angus secretly shook his hand when the others were busy studying the great hallway stretching in front of them. There were servants there, going about their business but stopping to see them pass under the escort of some Palace Guards. General Neri-Lokh had taken the lead, with Kelan, Gettik and Elssi following, and then Marzio and Angus. The lord whispered to him, sleepily, "Perhaps you should lay low for a while, or at least avoid Lord Loreh-Ven if you can," and Marzio silently thanked him, even if the words expressed his own feelings on the matter. 

But he had no idea what would happen to them next, had he? They could be thrown in the palace's dungeons and left there, for all they knew. He smiled, thinking he would at least see Ignis one more time before that happened. 

The grand corridor gave way to a large marbled hall, three storeys high and with banners hanging down the walls bearing the insignia of Demonis' important houses. On the wall opposite to the door hung the banner bearing the crest of the House of Sagni-Dor, a golden dragon on a field of red; and in front of it, raised on a dais, was an imposing - and surprisingly empty - throne. 

Next to the throne there stood a man. Well into his forties, with dark skin, curly hair falling to his shoulders and arrogant black eyes, he wore scarlet robes with ample embroideries, as well as a vicious smile that immediately gained Marzio's antipathy. The name Lavian Drak-Mer instantly came to his lips; from behind, he heard the muffled groans of several of the guards. 

But where was Prince Sagni-Dor? 

The man waited for them to approach the dais, Tempesta Neri-Lokh still leading the way. When they finally stopped, the accompanying guards formed a half-circle behind the Angelians, and they dropped on their knees. Tempesta only bowed her head, and the Angelians followed her lead; the man responded with a similar, but more minimal, gesture. Then the guards rose again. 

"Welcome back to Aquiline, Supreme Commander," the man finally spoke, his voice strong and used to command. "I trust your journey home lacked of unpleasant surprises." 

Tempesta nodded as she replied coldly, "That it did, your lordship." 

Then the man turned to glance at the Angelians, and there was a quick glimpse of hatred in his eyes, that did not escape Marzio. 'This man does not want us here,' he realized. He would have to be careful around him. 

"And these must be the honoured guests the Lord Prince spoke so highly of," the man said in their direction, studying them attentively. The Angelian general forced himself not to flinch as the dark eyes rested on him for a few seconds longer than he would have desired. There was a certain note in that voice that he did not like, though the tone was quite pleasant. 

"We are honoured to finally make your acquaintance, Lord Lavian," Kelan replied, and again Marzio felt that there was more in the words that met the eye. He did not like this, not a bit. 

The High Priest nodded again, and continued apologetically, "His Highness asks you to forgive him for not being able to greet you personally, but pressing matters required his presence outside the capital. However, he has left precise instructions, and hopes you will find your stay with us enjoyable." Then he spoke to Tempesta again, "General, His Highness also asked for a full report on your journey. I would like to have a look at it as well." 

And then something happened that made Marzio understand what exactly it was that bothered him when Lord Lavian spoke of the prince. The Demon general replied "I am sorry, milord, but your status does not allow you access to military reports," and for a moment undisguised hate crossed the priest's face. 

But it was swiftly gone, and the thin lips curled in a smile. "I'm sorry, I forgot about that," the High Priest apologized. He clapped his hands, and a few servants walked in the hall through a door at their rights. "My lords," he spoke to the Angelians, "if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend. The servants will guide you to your rooms. Your belongings shall be delivered to you later today." And with another nod, he left through the same door the servants had used. 

"He couldn't be stiffer if someone stuck a pike through his ass," one of the guards swore after he was well out of hearing. Marzio could not help smiling at the remark, but he saw that Kelan was not amused. 

"Could we get to those rooms already?" he demanded angrily. "I want to get some proper rest!" 

"Right this way, my lords." One of the servants, whose livery marked him higher in rank than the others, gestured towards another door at their left. 

Marzio was just about to follow his four countrymen, when a young boy wearing a red tunic with a golden sash abruptly burst into the hall, and nearly collided with Tempesta in his way. 

The guards laughed at this, and the woman asked him, "Where to so abruptly, Kheerah?" 

Blushing furiously, the young page looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, milady. I am supposed to show the Angelian general to his rooms, but I can't seem to find him anywhere." 

More laughter from the guards. "Well, boy, you found him now!" 

Marzio smiled and stepped forward. "I am General Zain-Reil," he told the boy gently. "And you are?" 

The boy looked up at him with awed brown eyes, and then bowed deeply. There was something very familiar about him. Marzio was sure he had seen him before, but he could not remember where. "I am Kheerah, milord. Please, follow me." He turned to walk towards the main entrance, but Tempesta caught him by the shoulder. 

"And where's Ignis having him quartered, hmm?" 

"The Prince Heir's suite, milady," Kheerah replied shyly. 

"Ah well... you're in for a treat then, General," Tempesta told Marzio. "That's one of the best rooms in the Palace. Not to mention it's in the Royal Wing." She shot him a knowing glance. "At any rate, security's tight, so heed my advice and don't try anything funny." She motioned for the other guards to follow her, and headed back the same way they came without a glance back. 

Marzio sighed, not knowing what that actually meant but not very eager to discover it either. He gestured for the young page to show him the way. 

* * *

The rooms assigned to him were at the left end of a corridor with only three doors, somewhere on the third floor. The page - Kheerah - unlocked the massive oak door and offered him the key. Marzio stepped inside a spacious room that probably acted as living-room, with two large window-doors leading on a small terrace overlooking what looked like an interior garden. All furniture was made of oak, with blue velvet upholstery on the few chairs and two loveseats facing the marble hearth. 

There was a door to the right that probably lead to the bedroom, and he was about to go check when a little cough reminded him he was not alone. Turning to the boy, he smiled reassuringly. 

"Thank you. That would be all." 

The big eyes looked up again, and the page fidgeted a little. "Umm... Milord, whatever you need, just ring for me. His Highness said I should serve you as if you were he." 

Marzio raised one brow. "Did he, now? Are you his servant?" 

"I am his attendant, your lordship," the boy said proudly, then bowed deeply and left the room abruptly, before the Angelian had the chance to ask him anything else. 

Marzio sighed. 'Ignis is not in Aquiline, but he left me the use of his attendant. Nice...' 

Smirking, he peered through the door inside what was his future bedroom. The same colour dominated here, provided in more shades, and there was another door leading to a magnificent marble-tiled bathroom. The bed was canopied and opulent, and the general took a minute to test it - it was extremely comfortable as well. The various chests and wardrobes had been emptied, but there was a collection of leather-bound volumes in a bookcase covering an entire wall. There was also a small desk stocked with all necessary items for writing - all new, he noted - and a spacious window seat that would probably see much use, if he had his way. 

Shrugging, he took off his boots and tunic and threw himself on the bed, suddenly very tired. 'So Marzio gets the Prince Heir's suite. And what comes next, _Your Highness_?' 

* * *

Less than one week after their arrival in Aquiline, Marzio received an anonymous letter. Kheerah had given it to him with no explanation when he had brought him lunch, and he had stared at it for several minutes, not knowing whom it was from. There was nothing written on the outside of the paper, and the red wax seal represented a burning flame. Finally, Marzio decided that the only person he could possibly associate this with was Ignis. The letter was probably not anonymous, but merely unofficial. 

He had not heard from Ignis in all the time he had spent there, but Kheerah had told him the prince had returned the previous day. He had half-expected to see him that very evening, but it had not happened and the Angelian had begun to settle with the thought that his company may not be welcomed anymore. 

Now, with trembling hands, he opened the seal and unfolded the sheet of paper. It contained a very short and concise message in elegant handwriting. 

_'Dinner, at eight. My rooms.'_

That gave him new hope. But 'dinner' could mean anything, from a private meal to a small feast. And how was he going to find Ignis' rooms in the immense palace, anyway? 

'One thing at a time,' he decided. He would get some rest and then a bath. 

But the thought of finally seeing the prince again did not allow him to close one eye, and the bath did not help him relax either. At first, it had been excitement. But, with the passage of time, it had turned into nervousness and uncertainty. He began to ask himself why Ignis had avoided him all this time, and some of the answers he came up with were very disturbing. 

He hoped he would not look ridiculous in his choice of clothing. Not in Ignis' eyes, for the prince had never bothered to comment on such trivial things as clothing. But he remembered the looks he had received from various nobles on his short walks through the corridors. 

No more blue, for the colour had begun to overwhelm him. He settled for a sleeveless forest green jacket, with bands of gold trim; it fit him tightly, a deliberate contrast to the flowing white sleeves of his shirt, which accentuated his shoulders. Black velvet breeches and his always-present boots and gloves completed his attire for the night. 

It was a quarter to eight and he was still debating on the best method of finding Ignis' apartment without being too obvious about it, when a discrete knock on his door informed him he had a visitor. 

It was Kheerah. The boy smiled up at him in complicity. "Milord, please come with me when you are ready." 

Marzio was by now getting visibly annoyed with the boy and his use of nobility titles every time they met, but kept his mouth shut and silently followed his guide through the torch-lit corridor. The guards that had been stationed there had disappeared without a trace. To his surprise, the boy stopped in front of the massive door at the other end of the hall and knocked twice, then paused and repeated the action. 

No answer came, but Kheerah opened the door all the same, and showed him in, Marzio's feet burying in a thick green-and-brown carpet. The page did not follow him inside, but instead shut the door and soon his steps could be heard descending the stairs. 

The room was large, and magnificently decorated. Since it was already dark outside, dozens of candles filled the room with a warm light, casting shadows on the frescoes that covered three of the four walls. Each wall had its own theme - mythological, hunting, battle. Marzio could not make out the details in the semi-darkness, but he concluded that they must have looked astonishing by daylight. 

The unpainted wall held a remarkable display of weapons, from swords and daggers to the more sophisticated crossbow, and a heavily ornamented armour that must have been worth a small fortune. 

All the furniture in the room was carved mahogany - Ignis seemed to have a preference for this particular type of wood essence. There were shelves supporting leather-bound volumes, a few maps and various small carvings. A large table facing one of the immense door-windows that probably led on a balcony. Heavy drapes of burgundy velvet with gold thread patterns flanked each of the windows, which were closed to block out the chill of the night. 

A smaller table had been set near the same wall as the entrance, facing the marble hearth where a fire burned brightly. It looked more intimate than the large one, and the couch and two armchairs placed next to it were beckoning him to go and sit down. 

But it would not have been polite to do so without his host's invitation, so instead he decided to take a better look at the weapon collection. All the items seemed in extremely good shape, and Marzio could have bet that they were regularly put to use, or at least tended to. He raised one hand to touch the armour's breastplate, his fingers following the pattern of the Royal Crest. Was it real gold? 

"The thing weights a ton. I avoid wearing it as much as possible." 

The silent voice made him turn around to see Ignis leaning against the double door that probably lead to other chambers adjoining this one. The prince was wearing a calf-long velvet robe, loose shirt and trousers and in-door slippers, and seemed by far more relaxed than Marzio felt. 

He came towards his guest, smiling brightly. "I see you got my invitation. Please, have a seat!" he said, gesturing towards the table near the fireplace. 

The Angelian's anxiousness grew, and he swallowed, pushing himself into motion. 

"Thank you." He eased his body on the plush couch, and forced himself to relax. Why was he feeling so out of place? "Is this a private dinner?" he added, now actually wishing it was not. The sole idea of being alone with the prince in his private rooms gave Marzio thoughts he should not have. At least, with someone else present, things would not get out of control. 

He had no such luck. 

"Why, of course," Ignis confirmed, sitting in one of the empty armchairs. And, as if things were not bad enough as it was, he had to say more. "It is also more or less secret, in case you were wondering. No one except me and Kheerah know that you are here tonight." 

Marzio sighed. It was going to be a _long_ evening.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The food was brought in by the young attendant, Ignis having given the day off to the rest of his staff. They began to dine, and with each bite Marzio was getting more uneasy. He could feel something was going to happen that night, and he had no idea what that was. The prince was his usual self, his every move seducing Marzio even further, hidden allusions behind his words, small gestures that compelled the general's attention. He began to actually lose awareness of what they were discussing, and focus on his host instead. He felt his blood burn in his veins, and his sight began to blur as he looked at the prince, painfully aware that nothing was probably going to happen between them that night. As usual. 

He had to struggle to keep his control, hoping Ignis would not notice it, or at least not mention it. But fate was simply not with him, and the Demon was simply too used to analyze people not to notice something was different. 

They finished eating, and with the third cup of wine came a pause in their discussion. The prince used it to study the Angelian intensely, his gaze grating on Marzio's already tense nerves. 

"There is something wrong with you tonight," Ignis stated, his eyes narrowed, hands resting in his lap. He looked so innocent that Marzio wondered if his sight was not deceiving him. This did not look anything like the intriguing man he knew. 

"Why should something be wrong with me?" 

His voice was angry, and it only increased Ignis' suspicion. His eyes narrowed even more. 

"You are hiding something from me. What is it? Did something upset you?" 

Upset him? "Yes, someone upset me. _You_!" 

Ignis looked at him, surprised. "I do not understand. I don't remember wronging you in any way." 

That was too much to bear. "No? And where were you, these past three weeks?" he inquired on a tone that demanded an answer. "Where were you, during the trip here? Or afterwards, as a matter of fact." The Angelian did not give a damn that the prince held a higher rank than he did, or that he was not in the position to ask these questions. Besides, he knew the answers all too well. 

Ignis just looked at him. "I owe you no explanation." His voice was steel, but Marzio did not care. He ignored the comment, and carried on with his own tirade. 

"First, you come to me, seduce me and demand my affection. Then, you disappear somewhere without a warning, not caring one bit about how I might be feeling. No word, no letter, no nothing. And now you come out of your hiding place and expect things to be as they were?" 

Ignis blinked, but did not reply. 

"You hold me hostage, and refuse me the only thing that might make my captivity easier. You know damn well how I feel about you, yet you never give me a definite answer. You play with both my feelings and yours. What am I supposed to think? That I am not good enough for you?" 

"Marzio, how can you say that? You know that I..." 

"You what? You care for me? Then show it, by the gods, _show it_! Since you bloody well seem to enjoy playing with me so much, put an end to this senseless masquerade and take me to bed! Then you can play with me all you like!" 

* * *

Ignis stared back at Marzio, not quite believing his ears. The Angelian swallowed and cursed himself for speaking so bluntly, and he was not very certain how things would go from there. But he could not take his words back. 

The prince turned his head away, staring into the burning flames as if the fire could provide him with an answer. He looked like a marble statue in fine clothes standing in a mahogany armchair, his breathing the only sign he was actually alive. He seemed deep in thought, holding his forehead with one hand and absentmindedly unbraiding his long hair with the other one. The reddish locks resembled the flames in the fireplace as he wound them around his pale fingers, and the burgundy eyes reflected the fire's blaze. 

The argument had ended as swiftly as it had begun, and now the room was so quiet that the general could hear his own heartbeat. Marzio blamed himself for being so stupid. He had been tired of waiting. What if his lack of patience had destroyed everything? 

One thing he was sure of, though; there really was an attraction between the two of them. But why did Ignis deny it? Why not admit to it, and get things over with? 

Finally, a deep sigh escaped the Demon's chest. He crept from his seat and came over to the couch. Such grace and elegance in his movements... How could one not be attracted to the prince? How could one ignore his inner power, and not fully abandon oneself to his will? 

They were inches apart now, and Ignis was watching him through narrowed eyes, the intense scrutiny jarring Marzio's nerves. ' _I want you!_ ' the Angelian felt like shouting, but he was frozen into place. 

Ignis sat down close to him, drawing one silk-clad leg underneath him so he could watch Marzio's expression. His hands reached out and cupped the other man's face, slowly bidding him to turn around and look at him. Marzio complied. 

The Prince of Demonis had always seen himself as a sensualist, as far as his bed partners were concerned. He enjoyed lingering kisses and passionate embraces, and the feel of naked skin under his fingers. Seduction was a second nature to him, and had proved very useful on several occasions. But would this work on such a man as Marzio? 

He decided there was only one way to find out. Firmly holding the back of Marzio's head with his left hand, he trailed the fingers of his right one down and back up the man's neck, casually resting his thumb where neck met jaw. Marzio's pulse was steady, and he did not try to pull away. 

Ignis smiled slightly. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on Marzio's left temple, brushing his lips over the soft skin of his jaw and stopping inches away from the sensual mouth. All the general had to do was turn his face a little, and their lips would meet. 

He did not do it. But Ignis could feel his blood rushing through his veins, his pulse quicken at the proximity of the Demon's body. Ignis looked down, his eyes half-lidded. Marzio was definitely aroused, and the prince was suddenly thankful that his long robe hid his own desire. But there was no concealing his warm skin and rapid heartbeat. 

One more question left to ask, one more thing he needed to know. And he had to tread carefully. 

"You really meant those words, didn't you?" 

His voice was deeper, filled with an emotion that mirrored Marzio's own feelings at the moment, and his eyes were burning into Marzio's very soul. Framed by the tender light of the candles on the dinner table and the flickering flames, Ignis really looked like a creature from a different realm. So intensely beautiful... how could one hope to possess such a being? How could one hope to capture one moment of his attention? 

Yet Marzio had done just that. And he was determined not to lose him, to make the best of the chance he was being offered. 

He sighed. "I apologize. I should not have been so blunt. But I do want you, Ignis." 

"Why?" 

The question caught Marzio off guard. Reading his puzzlement, Ignis explained, "Everybody has a reason, Marzio. It's because of who I am - everybody needs a favour, a commission, influence, or merely something to gossip about at Court. I am well aware of this. My question is, what is _your_ reason?" 

So much sorrow hidden behind his words. Ignis was well aware of being used, and even admitted to it. The Angelian shook his head; he had not meant to sound so selfish. Of course he wanted something in return. Something far more valuable than any of the things Ignis had just mentioned. 

"I want _you_ , Ignis. Not the Prince, not the warrior, not the man. Just _you_." 

He could find no other way to explain it. No words to convey the emptiness he had felt inside before meeting the Demon, or the passion that had engulfed him from that day on, the desire he felt every time he caught one brief glimpse of him. He wanted nothing, yet it was everything. No favours, but the very essence of Ignis' being. 

He was presumptuous enough to want Ignis' _heart_. And Marzio knew that the prince would have no problem understanding perfectly what he was asking for. 

"You ask a lot of me, Marzio," Ignis told him. "You ask me to offer you something only one has owned before you..." 

He blushed and tried to look away, truly ashamed. But the slender hands still holding him would not allow it. Nor would the burning eyes. Ignis bent forward again, to touch his lips on Marzio's. 

This kiss was different from all the others they had experienced before; it was loaded with all those things neither of them had wanted to admit to. Desire. Passion. Longing. They melted together as their lips crushed, passionately savouring what was building up between them. It was breathtaking, and utterly magnificent. 

And, that moment, something strange happened. It was like the very air around them had changed, like the world had turned into something new. Marzio had the strange sensation of re-living a few moments from the past, as the prince's hand tightened its grip on the back of his head, and the other one caressed his shoulder through the soft silk of his shirt, sending ripples of pleasure through him. 

A tear escaped Marzio's eye, leaving a moist trail down his cheek. 

Then Ignis drew back, and asked him with a tremor that was uncharacteristic to his lovely voice, "Are you sure, _absolutely_ sure that this is what you want? Because there is no turning back. And, if you take my soul away from me and offer nothing in return, I shall have no more reasons left to live." 

Marzio knew that. And he suddenly became aware of the real meaning behind what had just been spoken. 

If there was one way the Angelians would ever win the fight against Demonis, if one path could be taken without defeat eagerly expecting their arrival, this was it. He would possess a lethal weapon against everything that meant Demonis and its Prince. 

And he also knew he would never make use of it. Not after all he had seen and learned. Not after all that was left for him to discover. He would not use this. Never! 

"You entrust me with your life, my prince." He looked into the burning rubies, not shying away for the very first time, emerald green holding Ignis' gaze. "I will not let you down." 

The Demon's features softened as he relaxed visibly. His smile returned, brilliant and innocent. 

He was safe. 

He squeezed Marzio's shoulder in reassurance. "Come, then. You shall have what you have asked for, this very night." He rose to his feet, and entwined the fingers of his left arm with those of Marzio's right. His right arm circled the Angelian's waist, pulling him up and prompting him into motion. He walked backwards, pulling his willing captive along towards the door that led to the bedroom. 

* * *

The room was exquisite, just like the rest of the Royal Suite Marzio had seen thus far. It was smaller than the one they had been in, but the same colours were present - gold, red, brown and black, in harmonious combination - and similarly lighted by burning candles. 

A large locker and bookshelves occupied the entire left wall. The right one had the same large windows, with various paintings decorating the remaining space. Turning his head, he noticed the hearth on the wall at his back, and even more bookshelves and smaller paintings. 

But their destination was, of course, the huge bed. Scarlet curtains fell down from the high canopy, pulled back by golden cords. The bed itself was not very high, and looked like it could easily accommodate at least half a dozen persons; large pillows were nearly lost in the sea of cream sheets falling down the bed frame in a flood of silk. 

Ignis came to a halt in front of the bed. He smiled and captured Marzio's mouth again, his hands deftly unlacing the Angelian's jacket and shirt. The passion they had shared was still in the kiss, but something else was making its presence felt, lurking in the background. Raw, animalistic lust. 

Marzio lifted his hands with the intention of pushing away the prince's robe, but Ignis caught both of them in a firm hold, making him stop. He let go and trailed his index finger on Marzio's lips. "Let me do this for you, please. Just stand still." 

Once Marzio complied, he began removing the blond's outer garments, carelessly throwing them on the thick carpet, and nudged him forward to sit on the bed. Marzio raised one foot to remove his boot, but he stopped his motion in mid-air as Ignis dropped on his knees at the edge of the bed. 

He could not bear the sight of the prince in that position; it was unconceivable, for a man of his status. "But Ignis, you don't have to..." 

"Nonsense." He was prompted to silence by calm eyes looking up at him. "In here, we are equal. There is no need to follow any rules, as long as we both agree on what will come next. We needn't dominate, as we do out there. In this room, I am not the Prince of Demonis, and you are not the High Commander of Angelia. If you submit to me, you do it of your own free will. Now please relax and let me do this. I am not going to hurt you, you know." 

Ignis seemed a bit annoyed with the constant interruptions, so Marzio did as he was told. He leaned back and supported the weight of his body on his elbows as Ignis removed first one leather boot, and then the other, his touch lingering briefly on the Angelian's bare ankles. Then the slender hands made their way up his calves and knees, over the velvet that still covered them. They caressed the inside of his thighs through the soft cloth, sending a jolt of sensations through Marzio's body. He slowly began to relax, and closed his eyes, only to open them wide as the clever fingers tentatively stroked his crotch through the breeches. 

He could not suppress a low whimper. It took all the control he had left to keep him from taking the Demon right then and there. 

"Aren't we eager tonight!" Teasing words, reflecting his thoughts, as Ignis finally rose and pushed him further onto the soft bed, leaning over him. The hand did not stop its motions, and Marzio was getting considerably aroused. 

He made one last attempt to remove the rich robe, and to his surprise this time he was actually allowed to go through with it. He pushed the velvet garment off lean shoulders, careful not to hurt the fragile ligaments of the black-feathered wings. 'This is not about domination,' he reminded himself. 

He breathed heavily, and felt he was being pushed down again. "You actually enjoy tormenting me like this, don't you?" he asked the red-haired prince, spreading his wings as he lay down so they would not get caught underneath him in an awkward position. 

"You have no idea how much," came the reply, seared with a kiss. Then Ignis swiftly removed his own slippers and shirt, and returned his full attentions to the man in his bed. He finally got rid of Marzio's breeches, and pulled back to admire the general's body. 

"Do you even realize how handsome you truly are?" he whispered so lightly the general barely heard the words. 

Marzio had never understood why others seemed to find him attractive. He thought what they were after were rank, title and fortune. But Ignis couldn't possibly care for such trivial things; he had everything a person could ask for in terms of material wealth and a whole country to rule as he pleased on top of that. 

"I have never considered myself anything other than plain." 

"That's exactly the answer I was expecting. You never seem to be aware of your true value," Ignis said, one hand busying itself with the centre of Marzio's desire, the other exploring his broad, hairless chest. He was placing feather-like kisses on Marzio' shoulders and collar bone, and used this as an advantage to get his point across. "You have... always... looked... incredibly... beautiful... to me..." Each word was accompanied by one skilled flickering of his tongue on the sensitive skin of Marzio's neck, and between that and the hand pleasuring him, Marzio nearly lost his control. He gripped at the sheets furiously, trying to keep his hands from pulling the prince's body down over his own. 

Obviously Ignis knew how to push people over the edge, but he also knew when to stop. As he did so, that mysterious smile crossed his lips. 

"What...?" 

Another passionate kiss, and then, stroking his hair, the prince bent over him again and whispered in Marzio's ear, the warm breath making the general's body tremble with desire. "I want you to take me." 

Thus far, the Angelian had known Ignis as a man who liked to be in control. He had never seemed submissive. And yet his words... Surely he was not suggesting that Marzio should... 

He looked, really looked at Ignis, thinking he had misinterpreted the request. No irony, no humour. Just silent pleading. He had heard correctly. 

"You are willing to offer me _that_?" Marzio asked, still not very sure what course of action he should follow. 

"Is it not what you wanted? What you have asked for?" Ignis retorted, raising one elegant brow and whirling one strand of golden hair around his finger. 

"Yes, but I had no hope that you would actually want to go through with it, at the time." 

The Demon chuckled. "As I said, you fail to give yourself credit for your actions. You need a little reassurance. Right now, I am willing to offer you control. I suggest you accept; the occasion may not come again." 

Then he pushed himself up and left the bed, and for one second Marzio thought he had ruined it all, that he had offended him. But the prince returned, taking Marzio's hand and carefully placing a glass vial in it, brushing his mouth against the general's fingers as he did so. The vial glittered in the faint light, and Marzio took off the tap, careful not to spill any of the content; the discrete smell of rose oil filled the room. 

He fondly looked back at Ignis. Unlike Marzio, who still had trouble realizing this was really happening, the Demon seemed to know quite clearly what he wanted. With slow motions calculated to entice, he slowly stretched his body on the mattress, long thick hair fanning all around him. It was an open invitation only a blindman would turn down. 

Marzio put the tap back on, and placed the vial within easy reach. Lying down on his side next to Ignis, he began his own exploration of the prince's body. He stole kisses as his fingers roamed across translucent flesh, trying to determine where the force Ignis possessed came from. He felt the relaxed muscles and tendons, and he even distinguished dark veins underneath the white and supple skin shining golden in the candlelight. It was flawless, with no scar marring the pale perfection. Marzio's body had several, most of them obtained in battle; but they were proof of his strength and will to survive, and he was not ashamed with them. Ignis had not seemed repulsed by them, either. 

The Angelian bent his head and tentatively sucked at one erect nipple, and felt the body under him tense. He lifted his head to look at Ignis' face, and saw the young man had closed his eyes and seemed to focus entirely on the sensations Marzio's attentions offered him. 

That encouraged him. He licked and sucked at the other nipple as well, nipping at the skin playfully, recalling how his body reacted to that same type of touch. "Ohh..." Ignis moaned softly, his lush voice growing even deeper with pleasure. 

Marzio began a full assault on the exposed torso, using his mouth and fingers to draw small sounds of pleasure from the pliant Demon. The navel seemed to be especially responsive to his touches, and he was delighted to hear Ignis urge him on as he began to lick his way down to the prince's crotch. 

Only then did he become aware that Ignis' loose silk trousers were blocking his advance. 'You little daimon! I hadn't even noticed you still had these on.' True, there had been a good reason for his distraction, but it still struck him as unfair. Yet it was nothing that could not be easily dealt with. 

He unknotted the ties, touching the cloth-covered bulge in passing. Understanding what he wanted, Ignis lifted his body from the mattress for a couple of moments, allowing the general to slip the trousers off easily. Marzio whistled slowly in appreciation of the sight offered to him, and could not resist the urgent desire to touch that most intimate part of Ignis' body. 

The low, throaty sound that escaped the prince's lips as Marzio closed his hand on his manhood was worth all that had passed between them. It reflected Marzio's own need, and the general knew he would not be able to hold back for much longer. 

"Turn over," he prompted, gently pressing his hand on one pale thigh to let Ignis know what he wanted. 

In a flash of emotion, the Demon confessed a little fearfully, "I have never gone this far with a man." 

Marzio's eyes went wide in surprise and delight. And unless the people of Demonis gave a different meaning to the word 'never', there could be no mistake. Still, Marzio would not back down now - he had waited for this moment far too long to throw it all away. He was sure the prince felt the same way about it, and would not have suggested it unless he was ready. 

"It is a very precious gift you are offering me tonight, Ignis. I will not forget it." He bent down and kissed him deeply, savouring that unique taste again. "Don't worry. I'll make sure it won't hurt too much," he said on a reassuring tone. 

Ignis nodded, realizing it was far too late to turn back. His mind told him it was meant to be this way, but he was still a little unsure about what it would feel like. He turned on his stomach and carefully arranged his wings so they would not get in the way and be damaged. He tried not to cringe as Marzio spread his legs and knelt between them, covering the slightly-trembling body with his own and burying his face in soft black feathers and silken hair. His breath was hot and laboured as he spoke against Ignis' neck. "Relax. Trust me." 

Ignis winced at the thought. He was a little hesitant to fully abandon himself to the Angelian's mercy. But Marzio was right; and, at that very moment, he felt he could trust the man with his life. He sighed, voicing the thought so it would gain substance. "I trust you." 

As Marzio pulled himself up, he saw something he had not noticed before. An intricate design covered the skin of Ignis' right shoulder. It must have normally been hidden from sight by the folded wing, not to mention layers of cloth, but now it was clearly visible. He touched it lightly, afraid he might damage it, but the ink did not wear off. 

"Dreak tattoo," Ignis found the power to chuckle, fighting the excitement racing through his body. None of his former bed partners had noticed it before. "Let it be," he commanded. 

Marzio decided he would, for the time being. His need for release had surged back. He poured a small amount of oil from the small vial on his fingers and lowered his hand between Ignis' legs, carefully spreading the pale buttocks. He ran his fingers around the prince's opening, feeling the ring of muscle relax at the touch. Then he slowly slipped one probing finger into the tight space. 

Ignis' body tensed, and the prince let out a craving moan. Marzio took it as a good sign, and inserted one more finger, stretching him, cautiously preparing him for what was to be a much more painful invasion. Ignis' moans became louder, and Marzio reached under him with his free hand to pleasure the prince even further. He created a pattern between his exploring fingers and the hand stroking the Demon's member. He was getting nearer and nearer to crossing the thin border between pleasure and ecstasy. He had to do it soon. 

Considering Ignis was probably loose enough by now, he began to pull out his fingers. Ignis tried to prolong the pleasure by clenching his muscles around the retreating digits, so Marzio hurried to shush him and spread more of the oil on his erect organ. Then he used both hands to pull Ignis' body from the mattress, and spread his legs even more. He placed the tip of his organ at the entrance of the Demon's body, and began to penetrate him, pushing past the natural resistance of the prince's virgin opening. 

Ignis tried his best not to cry out and ask Marzio to stop. The pain was almost unbearable; but he also knew it was an unavoidable path in reaching the glory beyond. He bit his lip and gripped at the sheets and pillows, looking for a way to alleviate the searing pain. He would not scream; he would absolutely not scream! 

Sensing his lover's discomfort, Marzio ceased his advance for a moment. "Are you all right? Do you want me to stop?" he asked breathlessly. 

"No!" came the desperate answer. "I really want this, Marzio. We just need to go slower, that's all." 

Deep inside, the general knew he could not have stopped even if he had been asked to. Remembering what the first time had been like for him, he took a deep breath and with one long stride he buried himself into the warm space. 

Ignis was impossibly tight, and a groan escaped the Angelian's lips. Gods, it felt good. It felt better than good - it was paradise. And doing it with this particular man, with the one he would hold in his heart forever, made it a unique occasion. 

Ignis gasped and kept biting his lip, but no sound of pain escaped his mouth. Moreover, he pushed his body further back, and sank into Marzio's embrace, trembling. 

"Does it still hurt?" the general found the voice to ask. 

"A little." Then he added reassuringly, "But it's more of a pleasurable pain now. I have lived through worse. And none of that ever made me feel the way I am feeling now with you. Please... more..." he moaned, as Marzio began to move out of him, only to enter him again a few seconds later, brushing against something so sensitive it sent sparks of pleasure through his body. 

They were like two souls entwined, their bodies moving in unison with the determination of the mountain rivers to reach the calm sea after meeting and swallowing the vortex of lava and eroding of rocks. Faster and faster, until not even the spirits of hell could have stopped them. 

Ignis attempted his best to last longer, but the melting sensation of Marzio's hardness stroking that treacherous spot deep inside him, along with his lover's hands pumping the wet smoothness of his swollen sex made him come first, shedding pearly semen all over Marzio's hands. 

"Yes... Marzio... ahhhh!" he managed to growl, before falling into a shattering orgasm. 

Marzio followed him shortly, the increasing pull of Ignis' inner muscles trying to swallow his manhood and the sound of _his_ name leaving his lover's lips while he reached his climax working together to give him that release he seemed to have been waiting for since the moment his heart had left his chest to lay at the Demon's feet. 

They fell together on the soft mattress, gasping for breath, one pale hand rising to tangle itself in gilded hair, and the Demon laughed silently. Were his father still alive, he would have called his young son a very naughty boy. But Ignis had never been against a little experimenting, and this time the results had turned out to be remarkably rewarding.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

It had never happened before, Marzio reasoned, lying in a warm embrace, in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Never before had someone cried out his name in such a manner. It felt good to hear it. It felt wonderful, and perfect. 

He sighed. His long history of failed relationships was not easy to put behind, but he was feeling utterly satisfied for the first time in years. A new bond had been created between him and the prince, something he could not yet define, but it was there nonetheless. 

The brushing of a soft material tickling his belly and down below brought him out of his reveries. He looked down to find a grinning Ignis playing with a long black feather. 

"It seems the word 'gentleness' is out of your vocabulary, General." 

Marzio turned bright red. "I'm sorry... I must have torn it off when we were... when we - Ahhhhhh... You'd better stop that or else I'll end up doing some _serious_ damage to your wings," Marzio warned playfully. 

"I'm not that breakable, Marzio!" Ignis said, sounding a little offended. 

"I know you aren't. But that feather just happens to be black, not white," he couldn't help adding. 

"Hey! Just wait till _you_ have a brute pounding your behind!" Ignis replied in mock indignation. 

"Should I take this as your way to tell me you didn't enjoy what we just did?" asked Marzio, faking annoyance. "Because I don't recall you complaining earlier, you know..." 

"I am not saying that! I am just saying that you should not consider my losing a damn _feather_ as a sign of weakness. I am not weak," the Demon said vehemently. "But next time, _do_ try to be more careful," he added shyly, feeling an inner warmth travelling over him from head to toe every time the Angelian brushed his body against his. 

"Next time? But I thought I was just a careless brute to you," Marzio teased again. 

"You _are_ , but I happen to l-" Ignis bit his tongue before the forbidden word left his mouth. "Like this brute," he finished. 

"Hmm, I feel much better knowing that," Marzio said, kissing his jaw line with infinite tenderness. 

Ignis' left hand brushed the damp locks away from his forehead. "Such rich hair," he whispered, his voice full of love and acceptance. "You know, I don't think I have ever seen this shade of golden blond before meeting you." 

Marzio sighed. "And you fell for me the moment you saw my hair? This is childish," he said, chuckling. 

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it was destiny that led you on my path." 

"You believe in destiny?" 

Ignis nuzzled at his neck. "On a wider scale? Yes, I do. What we do with our own lives is our making. But we are all part of a great design, which will eventually be accomplished. Whether it is now, or tomorrow, or in a thousand years. It will happen, for it is inevitable." 

There was a hidden meaning in those words, but Marzio knew the prince well enough by now to realize he would be given no further information on the subject. Instead, he should focus on more mundane things, things he knew would be explained to him. 

He liked this, cuddling with Ignis in the huge bed, snuggled up close under the warm covers. He felt comfortable, and safe. In the arms of the wonderful young genius that was the Prince of Demonis, he felt truly protected. 

It would not last - it could not. But he remembered some of Ignis' words that, as usual, had sounded trivial at the time. _"It is in small things that I find happiness."_ Now he understood their true value. 

He raised a hand to capture some of the luxuriant red hair splayed all around them. "Have I told you how special you are to me?" 

"No, you have not. But I already knew that. You are the one in need of constant reassurance," Ignis replied, trying to mask the overwhelming sense of security he felt at those words. 

"You always read into my soul, Ignis. How is that possible? How can you know my thoughts without me voicing them?" 

The prince giggled. "Magic," he offered. "Do not let it surprise you. I do this a lot, and not only with my friends. Let's leave it at that." 

A couple more minutes flew by. The night was quiet and peaceful. The candles had gone out long ago, and they just laid there in the blessed darkness. Marzio felt like dozing off, but there were some more questions he needed answered before he did so. And he had to be very careful, this time. 

"Tempesta told me about Rasya," he began. 

Ignis stiffened. "How much did she say?" 

"That the two of you were really close. That she died protecting your life." 

A sad voice asked him, "Why would you care about someone you have never met?" 

"Because Rasya was more than your lover. She was your friend. And I... I would like to become your friend, too. I am not trying to pass any judgement, Ignis. And I know I could never take her place - but at least let me get a little closer." 

"You already are. It doesn't get any closer than this." Ignis proved his point by tightening the embrace. "But I am glad you asked _me_ , instead of somebody else." He sighed. "I was happy... with her. I could forget some of my problems. We used to sneak out of the palace and into the city, in the guise of soldiers or travellers. Blend in with the crowd, go into taverns, and at plays... speak to common people about their troubles and concerns. I still do that; only it was different, when there were two of us." 

Ignis drew his breath and Marzio realized he was holding back tears. He could see the pain building up inside the prince's soul. He gently kissed his silky hair and his cheek. "I'm really sorry I brought this up. I did not wish to open old wounds." 

"Don't be sorry." He was smiling sadly now, and touched his lips to Marzio's forehead. "These are good memories. Happy memories." 

Marzio hugged his lover skin-tight. "I never got to thank you for saving my life," he said, trying to lead them both to safer ground. 

"You know it is not necessary." 

"You could have let me die." 

"You're pushing it again." Ignis' voice told him the prince did not hold it against him at all. 

"Sorry. Just curious." 

"And when are you _not_ curious? You always seem to have something to ask, some new subject that has managed to capture your interest." 

"You can't deny that supernatural healing powers do have a certain appeal," he said. "And then, there is that tattoo... Very mysterious and very distracting, _Meris_ Sagni-Dor," he purred, and jumped up suddenly as Ignis pinched his bottom. "Ouch! What was that for?" 

"Calling me by my family name in my bed, that's what!" It seemed Marzio had finally managed to wipe out any sign of sadness from the prince's face. 

"Oh, it was only that. I thought you were jealous of your own tattoo," he teased. 

"Foolish Angelian!" laughed the prince, slapping his lover's shoulder playfully. "Now, I suggest we get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day for me, and I would rather be awake during it." 

Marzio sighed and moved into a more comfortable position, laying his head on Ignis' shoulder. He closed his eyes and let the beating of his lover's heart lull him to sleep. Before falling into a blissful nap, he felt the Demon's jet-black wings surround his naked body protectively. 

* * *

Sunlight streaming through the semi-transparent lace curtains roused Ignis from his restful slumber. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, trying to chase away sleep. His senses told him the hour was late, compared to the time of morning he usually got up. 

His movements made the sleeping form huddled against his body whimper, but did not fully awake it. 

For one moment, Ignis could not recall who it was; but then the past night's events came back to him, and a happy grin spread across his face. He wrapped his arms tightly around Marzio, and nuzzled at the soft locks of hair. Golden, just like the light coming in through the window. 

He had never thought it would be so passionate, so fulfilling... His heart filled with joy again, casting away the heavy clouds that had gathered during the past three years. Marzio had pulled him away from loneliness, and had taught him to feel love again. 

'Such a wonderful night... it makes me wish it had not ended so soon...' 

He kissed the locks that tickled his face, and caressed the Angelian's back. Gently, lest he woke him up. He felt warm, and comfortable, and he loathed the thought of getting up. Still, pressing matters awaited his attention. 

He carefully pushed away the bed covers and unfolded his wings from around the sleeping man's body to look down and admire his lover in the tender light. So beautiful he was, laying there deeply asleep, curled against Ignis, his left hand across the prince's waist, his face buried in the younger man's chest. Ignis could not hold back an affectionate smile. No reason to wake him just yet. 

He lifted up Marzio's body, slowly pushing him onto the mattress. The Angelian stirred, but did not open his eyes. Ignis sat up on the bed, and pulled the warm covers over his lover, tucking him in. Tenderly, he brushed away some of the rebellious blond curls to have another look at the peaceful expression on Marzio's face, and placed a fleeting kiss on his lips. Then he stood up and looked around for his robe. It had landed on the floor, together with the rest of their clothes. He donned it, then gathered the rest of the items and placed them on the trunk at the end of the bed. They were a little crumpled, but there was nothing he could do about that. 

A bath was in order, he decided. He made for the bathroom, careful not to make any loud noise. He slinked past the door, and soundlessly closed it behind him. 

The marble was cold beneath his bare feet, but he paid little attention to it. Swiftly, he submerged himself in warm water and removed any bodily remains of the previous night. But its memory still burned inside his heart. He laughed while rubbing himself down roughly with a towel, and then put his robe back on. He returned into the bedroom, as quietly as he had left it. His hair was relatively wet, but he had rubbed out as much water as he could manage. 

Marzio had moved in his sleep, and was now hugging a pillow. But there was no sign he was awake, so Ignis began the challenging task of choosing the proper attire for the day. He truly hated the over-adorned garments the nobles wore at Court, and therefore all his clothes had a simple style to them. Still, they were made of rich materials, the simple cut and carefully-chosen colours offering him a certain dignity over the peacock-like style of the highborn. 

He did not feel like making an appearance that day, but holding open trial was one of the things he felt obliged to do for the lower-ranked and common people, and he had failed to attend that duty for almost two months on account of the recent military campaign. It was going to be a rough day. 

Skipping his daily training was also something he regretted, but a glance at the sleeping form in his bed made him change his mind quickly. He'd had plenty of 'training' that night. 

There was clatter coming from the other side of the wall, and Ignis knew it had to be Kheerah, setting up his breakfast. He unlocked the heavy door, and entered the spacious room. 

The boy bowed deeply as his master approached, and when he straightened his body he was met by a warm smile. There was no doubt the prince was in a good mood. 

"Kheerah, did you deliver General Zain-Reil's breakfast yet?" he enquired. 

"No, your lordship. He is usually still sleeping at this hour." 

Ignis chuckled. "Excellent. When you are done with setting up the table, just go back to the kitchens and bring it back here, alright?" 

"Milord?" 

The young attendant was a little disoriented at first, but the look on the prince's face spoke volumes. 

"Just do as I say. And no word of this to anyone, understood?" he added, on a somewhat threatening tone. 

"Y-yes, my Lord Prince!" the boy shied away. 

"Good," he nodded, returning to the bedroom. 

Marzio was beginning to stir, and as Ignis approached the bed and sat down on its edge sleepy green eyes looked up at him. 

"Good morning," he smiled, reaching out to caress a tanned shoulder creeping out from under the covers. "Did you sleep well?" 

"Mmm... absolutely," Marzio grinned back. "There were voices coming from the other room, and you were not here, and..." 

"And?" The Demon raised an eyebrow. 

"And I was beginning to miss you!" the Angelian complained, then suddenly sat up to capture the prince's lush lips in a kiss. 

Ignis' body shuddered with laughter as they lost their balance and fell back on the bed. He could get used to this. 

He pushed the blond man away, sitting up again. "Alright, most eager one, time to get up! Breakfast is here, and we haven't got all day!" 

"Breakfast?" the general questioned, following the prince in his motions, oblivious to the fact he was stark naked. He pushed his hands under Ignis' ceremonial robes, caressing the Demon's chest and shoulders. He licked his lips provocatively. "Mmm... I _could_ use an appetizer..." 

Ignis was beginning to get aroused, but as much as he wanted to abandon his duties in favour of much more pleasurable activities, he could not do it. He shot Marzio a reproachful glance, gently removing the skilled hands from under his robe. "I am _truly_ sorry, but this is not the right time." 

Marzio's face fell, and Ignis cursed himself under his breath. He had hurt him without a reason. 

"Marzio, as much as I would like to spend the day with you, this land does not rule itself. And right now, I must attend to my duties. You know this." Marzio nodded, still disturbed, so the Demon continued, "However, I am sure I can find out a way to make up for it, later tonight." 

A brilliant smile curled Marzio's lips, and the Demon found himself caught in a searing kiss once more. He embraced the Angelian really tight, and hoped he would not be exhausted by the time night fell. That would prove a real impediment. 

Marzio pulled back and caressed the wet reddish hair that tumbled on Ignis' shoulders. "Hmm... At least let me brush your hair for you. I've always wanted to do it." 

The prince agreed, pulling out of his arms. "So, what are you waiting for? Get dressed already. Or are you planning on having breakfast in the nude?" 

Marzio looked around for his clothes, and Ignis indicated the place he had put them. He watched his lover while he got dressed, admiring once more the toned body and the way he moved. He really had to have a sparring match with Marzio one of these days. 

Something wicked crossed his mind, and he voiced it. "Kheerah almost fainted when I told him to bring your food here." 

The general froze into place, staring back at him open-mouthed. Ignis giggled, and busied himself tying the Angelian's shirt and jacket laces. 

"Don't worry, he is absolutely discrete. The Court may not yet be aware of our little adventure last night... and if it gets out, it won't be from Kheerah's mouth." 

He brushed his lips against Marzio's soft cheek, something he had discovered he really enjoyed doing. He checked him from head to toe and, knowing this was as good as it would get, he started pulling the man into the other room. "Come now, I'm getting hungry!" 

* * *

Breakfast proved to be a good idea, also because Ignis informed Marzio he did not have to spend his days locked in his rooms. In fact, he even wondered how come the general had not explored half the palace by now, and had a good laugh when Marzio replied that it did not feel proper to do so without permission. 

"You can go wherever you want, just as long as you don't leave the palace grounds without an escort. I'll get you a plan if you like, but meanwhile just feel free to ask around. The guards can be extremely useful, given a chance." 

"So you train them to be tour guides or something?" Marzio chuckled. 

"Not at all, beloved," Ignis replied, and Marzio's heart jumped at the endearment. "But they won't mind a little chat while they're on duty. Standing there all day doing nothing can be so boring." 

Oh yes, it could. Marzio had been through it, and probably so had the young prince; it was all part of standard military training. 

"Besides," the prince added, "my guards really like you. You haven't given them any trouble this far." 

That did not feel right. "What did Kelan do this time?" he couldn't help asking. He knew the man would be trouble, no matter where he was. 

Ignis sighed. "Not too much, just the usual scheming. Or so Tempesta says. I have yet to see the man myself - and I admit I am not looking forward to that moment. Oh, and she also says they miss your presence. At Court." 

Marzio glared at him suspiciously. "What do you mean, at Court?" 

"Well, I couldn't have kept them locked in their rooms, could I? And Lavian insisted that they see 'Demonis in all its glory'." 

There was a dark irony in the prince's voice as he repeated the High Priest's words, and Marzio had a fairly good idea why. "The two of you don't get along too well, I take it?" 

Another sigh, and Ignis tossed down half of his wine. "Let's just say that, if possible, I would throw him down the highest tower without a second thought." 

"Throw who down a tower?" came an intrusive voice, and Marzio turned around at once. Praise the gods, it was only Owen. Still, Marzio could not suppress a shudder as he realized the Dreak would know why he was there. 

Ignis seemed calm, and obviously not surprised at his Captain's sudden appearance. "You're not stupid, Owen, and you damn well know who I'm talking about, since you've been here for five minutes already." 

Now Marzio was really surprised. Ignis had not looked at the door once while they had been in the room. "You could hear him come in?" he asked, not very sure if it was the right thing to do. 

"Hear him is not the correct word," the prince replied, and Marzio sensed the change in his tone. Subtle, almost non-existent; and it had been there ever since he had said the Angelian should feel free to explore the palace. 'Which was precisely five minutes ago,' he realized. 

"Feel me is more like it," Owen agreed. "He says he can _smell_ me occasionally, although how he does it is still a mystery." 

Ignis leaned forward to whisper to Marzio, but his voice was loud enough so that the other Dreak could overhear his words. "Only when he has sex. I smell perfume all over him." 

Marzio blushed furiously, and coughed to hide his discomfort; Ignis chuckled devilishly, knowing perfectly well whose perfume it was, and Owen looked totally befuddled; but all three let it go. 

"You missed training this morning, so I was worried something might have happened," the captain finally cleared things out. "I came to see if you were alright, but Kheerah said you were having company for breakfast." 

Marzio was a little baffled by this exchange, not sure what to believe anymore. Thankfully, Ignis decided to finally put an end to the whole discussion, lying through his teeth with such ease only a good politician could use. "You worry too much. I simply got up late, and decided to have breakfast in pleasurable company." And it just had to sound completely reasonable, of course. "Besides, I must say I am not looking forward to attending trial today. I thought Marzio could help me relax a little." 

Owen smiled. "I see. I shall wait for you outside, then." 

Ignis sighed deeply when he heard the door close. His smile returned, and so did a part of his good humour. "One would say that my missing training is the end of the world. Don't worry, beloved, he doesn't suspect anything," he added, turning to Marzio and hugging him. 

"How can you be certain?" 

"It's not so hard. He is aware I favour you, of course; but I do not have the habit of spending the morning with my bed mates, and he knows that perfectly well. Your very presence deceived him." 

Marzio could not help but feel an annoying pang of jealousy at the mentioning of other people sharing his lover's bed. He tried very hard not to think how many there had been before him, or if Ignis _truly_ held him in a high, special place in his heart, from where he could look down at the others and claim with true conviction how little they had meant to their prince, and how impossible it was for them to ever get a glimpse of Ignis' love. 

The prince got up. "I shall see you tonight, then. Or perhaps you will come see me in the Great Hall today?" 

'Great Hall? Oh, that's right; the trials.' "Yes, I might stop by later. I thought I'd begin my 'exploration' with the library." 

Ignis smiled, then bent down and stole a quick kiss. "Whatever you wish, Marzio. If you do, you'll have a pleasant surprise waiting for you there. And remember," he threatened him with one finger, like one did when chastising a child, "I know where you live." 

Marzio stood as well, accompanying the prince to the door. There were at least ten guards outside, but none seemed to find his presence there threatening, or at least strange. Ignis introduced them all by name, and they were all were quite friendly, in spite of their stern faces and stiff position. Then Ignis was on his way down the stairs, and the Angelian returned to his own rooms, making a plan in his mind of what he should go see first. He was particularly curious of the library - where he would probably find plenty of information on Demonis - and the barracks. All the talk about training had reminded him it had been quite a while since his last fighting practice, and there had to be some sort of facility built near the soldiers' quarters he could make good use of.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Marzio made it to the Great Hall early that afternoon. He had found what he was looking for, but both the library and the huge training hall had been empty. One of the few guards he had encountered had told him that, because of the great mass of people that had come there that day, security had been reinforced in the Hall and everybody was on alert. But the woman had assured him that he would find plenty of people in the training hall at any time of the day, and the library staff would be more than happy to assist him. On a _normal day_ , and she had emphasised those words. 

He understood, and continued his walk around the many corridors, getting a general feeling of the place. Even without a plan, he knew he would not get lost. The palace was built in such a way that a good soldier would have no problem with orientation. And all the corridors seemed to meet in one place, which had to be the hall both Ignis and the guard had mentioned to him - and the one they had been received in upon their arrival in Aquiline. So he had decided to go take a look. 

Luckily, he was on the ground floor. The place was crowded with people, and all the balconies on the two upper levels seemed packed. He saw soldiers everywhere, not just the Palace Guard but also Ignis' Personal Guard - which made perfect sense, of course, and Ignis would probably want Tempesta there as well. 

The four guards stationed at the massive door nodded as he passed, and one - which he recognized from earlier that morning - pulled him aside to show him a half-hidden niche on the right. It provided easier access, he said, and since it was slightly elevated it would allow him to see above the crowd. "No use getting cramped with all these people. It's already getting hot in here." 

"Why are you being so kind to me?" he found himself whispering to them man. "I am..." 

The man laughed. "I know who you are, General Zain-Reil," he said. "His Highness likes you and you make a good impression. So unless you're looking for trouble, you're more than welcome to watch." He opened the door that kept the niche from being taken over by unwanted visitors, let Marzio in and closed it back after him. He winked. "Just knock when you're done, and we'll let you out." 

He nodded, turned away from the door and continued down the narrow path, occasionally bowing to the people standing there in groups of two or three. All looked like nobles, and most of them were young. They didn't even give him a second glance as he passed, being concerned with what was happening in the hall. 

He finally found an excellent spot for observation, and looked past the sea of people at the throne Ignis occupied. 

A brilliant man, he decided. The guards did not allow anyone come closer than fifty paces from the dais, and all the people that took part in the trial, either as accused or defenders, were separated from the rest. Even four hours after the trial had begun, there were many left, he noticed, and Ignis would probably take his time with all of them. That meant the prince would probably be too tired to actually come and see him that night; but Marzio knew he would not blame the young man for it. 

He was not really curious about the legal procedures, but about who would actually be present there. He could see Tempesta standing behind the throne, and Owen and a few other officers moving around the room overseeing security. There were also several figures in the crowd that looked very much like guards dressed in civilian clothes to his experienced eye. Nevertheless, the people acted more civilised than he had anticipated. 

A couple of older men and women in fine clothes were seated close to the throne, and since Ignis consulted with them occasionally Marzio concluded they must be his advisors. Lord Lavian was among them, of course, but he did not sit right next to the throne as one would have expected. 

He spotted Lord Kelan and his three companions somewhere on a balcony, and was surprised they had come at all. But they must have been as curious as he had been, and this was a good place to plot as any. There were also Angelians in the crowd, and he concluded they must have been some of the merchants the Demon major had mentioned to him upon their arrival. Some had darker skin, and he also saw some Demons with fair skin or blonde hair. 

"Half-breeds?" he wondered. He knew they existed, naturally, but he had never seen any outside the territory of the Mauri Confederation. Angelia was very strict when it came to maintaining a 'pure' race, which if one would ask him was bullshit. But there was nothing he could do about it. 

A friendly chuckle took him out of his thoughts. "Isn't it amazing? Back in Angelia, they would never be allowed to live." 

Deep in thought, Marzio had not noticed anyone approach him. He turned to his left to see a pair of pale blue eyes studying him with disarming sincerity. They belonged to an elderly man, dressed in long white robes that covered most of his body, but could not hide the fair hair and broad white wings. 

Marzio froze into place. He _knew_ this man; he had seen him at least a dozen times seated at his uncle's table. 

"Lord Tanis...?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if his eyes did not deceive him. 

The man smiled politely. "Fancy meeting you here, Marzio Zain-Reil." He offered his hand. "I am sorry if I startled you. Prince Sagni-Dor said I might run into you one of these days, but I was rather expecting to meet you in the library." 

Still not sure of what was happening, Marzio shook the older man's hand. The voice was just as he remembered it, and the secure handshake... 

But this man was supposed to be dead! 

Tanis Seer-Neis, Duke of Apheion, had been one of the most illustrious strategists and politicians Angelia had ever had. He had also been a good friend of his family's, and had even taught Marzio Court etiquette, of all things. Yet the general was sure he had seen him killed nine years ago. He had seen him fall, his body dragged through half the battle field. He had been declared dead, and there were enough eye witnesses to certify that. 

Marzio blinked a few times, trying to make sure he was not seeing things. The man was still there, still solid, and seemed a little amused at Marzio's unhidden shock. "I take it you were not informed I was living here," he concluded finally. 

"I was not informed you were _alive_ ," Marzio corrected, and the man laughed warmly. 

"So our dear prince is back at his old tricks. That is very good news, indeed." 

Did the man mean Ignis? Was this the surprise he had mentioned earlier that day? Knowing Ignis, it was probably so. 

Lord Tanis - for he was now sure the man was truly Lord Tanis - kept smiling at him. "It has been a long time since we have seen each other, Marzio. I must confess you look more and more like your father." 

"Excuse me, but... how?" 

The older Angelian replied indulgingly, "How did I get here? How come I am still alive? That, my young friend, is a long story. And I do not want to keep you from any plans you might have." 

"Can I get the short version, at least?" The general was hesitant; of all the persons he had imagined as traitors, this man was the least likely he had expected. The duke had been a respected man in Angelia, and had no reason to betray his country and cross to the other side. 

"You worry too much, Marzio," Tanis told him. He crossed his hands on the wooden stall that separated the niche from the hall and kept smiling. "I bet I know what bothers you, as well. But I have not betrayed my people. 

"As you know, I was seriously injured in battle nine years ago. When I regained consciousness, I was in a dungeon with Demons as my guards. They considered me an important hostage, and tried to get as much information out of me as they could. But I did not reveal anything. 

"Finding out about this, Prince Nicolas - Ignis' father, that is - summoned me. He said that he admired my strength and devotion to my country. He offered me a deal: I would become his son's tutor for four years, and in exchange I would be offered my freedom. I would also have access to all the documents I considered necessary, and the opportunity to study Demon culture and civilisation for half a year before my lessons with the prince began. 

"Naturally, I accepted. It was the perfect opportunity to gather more information on the enemy, which could prove useful to us once I returned to Angelia. But, at the time, I did not know what would lay. After six months spent mostly in the Palace Library, I was sent away to a place I had only heard about, the Monastery of Dreak, to meet the Prince Heir. 

"As far as I knew, I was the only foreigner that was allowed to go there, by special permission of the Prince. For the Prince Heir had refused to return home after the first four years of training, as it had been expected. So I had to go there and teach him. 

"I still remember my first meeting with him - I was so impressed by the young Heir and his outlook on things. He was always one step ahead of his peers, it seemed; and he was more intelligent that anyone I had met up to that point. We have learned a lot from one another; and when the time of my release came, I refused to return home. I realized that I had fallen in love with this country and its people." 

Marzio was not surprised to hear this; he felt the same thing, and it had nothing to do with his love for Ignis. "They are so different, and yet not hard to understand if you truly want to." 

Tanis smiled. "In spite of what we Angelians say, their culture is far more advanced than ours. It is what bothers us, the reason we call them barbarians. But no person in its right mind would deny it." 

"So you remained here, and became a scholar, in spite of your family's grief." 

"Grief? Ha! My wife probably gave a large ball in honour of my passing," Tanis said bitterly. "In a way, Ignis is my son more than my own children ever were. And home is where you find happiness." 

That gave Marzio something to think about. He had not been there for too long, but it felt like he could spend the rest of his days in that country without anyone asking anything about it. 

"It is different," he admitted. "Different from what I was raised to believe in. And it beckons to me. But I cannot stay here, I cannot _hide_." 

Tanis nodded sadly. "You are right, I guess I _am_ hiding. But I was older than you when I was brought to Aquiline, and I did not have your strength, or a powerful guardian to ensure my safety." He looked down at the people gathered in the hall, and then at Ignis. "He trusts you, Marzio. I can see it in his eyes when he speaks of you. Don't you dare let him down, you hear me!" 

One look at the figure on the throne, and Marzio's heartbeat quickened. "I would never dream of it." 

The old man closed his eyes and gripped the wooden rail for support. He looked like he would fall, and Marzio almost jumped to keep that from happening. But the Angelian recovered just as fast. 

"I am getting too old for this," he told Marzio, breathing deeply. "And I believe it is time for me to return to my studies. Do come by the library some time, though - we can talk more. You can tell me what King Teh-Kai is up to these days." 

"I will," the general promised. "I still have questions about Demonis that need an answer. And about Ignis, too." 

Tanis smiled again. "Those, my friend, you must ask him directly. He is not particularly pleased with people gossiping about him." Then he added low enough not to be overheard, "One thing I can tell you, though. He does not do politics..." 

"... in the bedroom, I know. General Neri-Lokh already warned me about that." 

The Angelian duke turned Demon scholar nodded knowingly. "Then she has seen it too. At any rate, now that you like each other you absolutely _have_ to ask him to take you into the city himself. He'd never refuse you the favour, and he needs a few hours of freedom." 

Marzio agreed and watched Tanis take his leave, sighing in relief when the man got out of sight. Keeping things from him would be just as difficult as keeping them from Ignis' other good-willed friends. 

* * *

Fresh morning air filled the palace corridors, as Marzio made his way toward the training hall. The chill was invigorating, and the Angelian was inexplicably excited at the prospect of demonstrating his skills to the Demons. One month ago, he would have never have though about it, let alone go through with it; but now, he was feeling a new person. 

He wondered briefly if Ignis would be up as well. If he truly did not miss training often, it was likely they would meet up in the training hall. Still, the young prince had been worn out the previous night, so there was the possibility of him still resting; and Marzio had not been able to check, on account of the three guards stationed in the hallway. 

As he approached the training hall, he could already hear voices and the clashing of metal. Leaving the entryway behind, he was overwhelmed by the familiar scent of sweat and the noises he treasured, of men - and women, in this case - training in an enclosed space. The hall was now bursting with activity, unlike the deserted view that had met him the other day. 

The hall was rectangular and conceived in such a manner that it gave the impression of an out-of-doors facility. A small gallery surrounded the oval training ring, which was spacious and covered in a thick layer of sand. Many of those present at that hour were gathered around the small palisade going round the gallery as they watched those that were already sparring in the ring, cheering loudly every now and then. 

Because of this, Marzio had no view of those inside the ring. However, he saw a couple of familiar faces, including Meris Owen, caught in conversation close by. He approached with the intention of asking the Dreak officer to partner him that morning, lightly tapping the Demon on the shoulder to let him know he was there. 

Just as the captain turned and smiled in acknowledgement, a strong voice Marzio immediately identified ordered, "Switch!" 

The Angelian grinned. It seemed he would see Ignis that morning after all. 

Sensing his interest, Owen took one step sideways to offer him a clear view of the ring. Marzio leaned his elbows on the wooden palisade of the enclosure, and studied the fighters with great interest. 

Ignis was inside with three other fighters, but fought only one of them; the others were content to watch, jumping out of the way if necessary. However, the sweat on their bodies indicated that they had had their turn. The prince, shirtless and sweaty himself, was sparring with a man of solid build that clearly outweighed him, but he did so with a skill the Angelian had rarely encountered. 

"Does he do this every morning?" Marzio asked Owen, who had abandoned the conversation in favour of observing the fight together with him. 

"Mostly," the Dreak smirked. "But you've missed most of it. He's been at it for half an hour now." 

It was a decent period of time for any good warrior, but what impressed the general was that Ignis showed no sigh of fatigue; quite the contrary, he seemed as relaxed as if he were taking a stroll through the park around the palace. 

Marzio watched as the Demon prince sent his adversary down with one strong blow. Again, he shouted "Switch!" and one of the two that had stood by watching took the fallen man's place. The sturdy guard got up and made his way towards the gallery, a little out of breath. 

"How long does he usually last?" 

Owen watched with vague indifference, and did not turn as he replied. "It depends. Usually he only spars for an hour or so, though he hardly pulls out all his energy just for training. Unless he's fighting a Dreak; then he gives his best no matter what. If you ever get to see that, you shall notice it is a very elaborate duel." 

Marzio got an idea. "Perhaps the two of you could show me?" 

"Hmm... I'm not really in the mood for doing any back flips just for fun this morning, but Tempesta might be interested. If I can find her, that is." Something caught his eye and he turned towards the ring. "Watch this," he told Marzio. 

The general decided there was something familiar in the fighting technique he witnessed now, though he could not determine what that was. Something about the way Ignis handled his sword and about the way in which he moved, at any rate. 

Glancing along the opposite side of the ring, he noticed several persons who had not come there for practice. It was most evident in their clothing, which was all brocade and jewelled finery. Nobles, he decided with a hint of surprise. One of the women caught his attention; not because she was prettier than the other or anything. But while the others were whispering among themselves paying little attention to the ring, she was studying Ignis just as closely as Marzio did, drinking in his every move. Her features were familiar, too, though he was sure he had not met her before. 

He frowned, not liking the way she looked at the prince. It was the same predatory glance the general had received several times from those who had wanted him for themselves, a certain fixation that was hard to shake off. 

He was about to ask Owen who she was when a startled cry made him revert his attention to the ring just in time to watch Ignis send his adversary, now disarmed, flying on the ground with a well-placed leg kick. 'That must be the back flip,' he mused, as the prince picked up the practice blade the guard had dropped. "That's enough for today," he said as he helped the woman stand. Waving one hand in recognition, he made his way to where Marzio and Owen were, a radiating smile on his lips. 

"I was expecting you here one day or the other," he told Marzio, throwing him one of the swords. "Were you planning on joining us for training?" 

The Angelian caught the blade and swung it a little, testing its sturdiness. "It was the general plan. If you would have me, Your Highness," he added with a low bow, which made several people, including Ignis, chuckle. Across the field, the woman that had been watching the fight had disappeared. 

"Any impressions so far?" 

"Several. Your fighting technique... I have seen it before, but I cannot tell where," Marzio confessed. 

"Care to give him a hand?" the prince winked at Owen, who nodded. 

"Perhaps because Ignis is the man you fought during the battle on the Mauri," the captain suggested amiably. 

Marzio's jaw went slack, but he recovered fast enough. "Well, that should make sense. Though you obviously _forgot_ to mention it before," he reproached the prince. 

The red-haired Demon blinked, and a short laugh escaped his lips. "I thought you already suspected it. Oh, never mind! Come along, now. I challenge you!" 

The general looked at him, a little surprised. "Are you sure? I mean, are you not tired or anything?" 

"I took you down once; I think I can repeat that performance. Or perhaps you do not want a rematch?" 

And how could Marzio refuse him? Though he sincerely doubted he could defeat him, being considerably out of practice. Perhaps when he had regained his full potential, they would be standing on equal ground. Still, he had a few tricks that could work in his advantage if necessary, without seriously harming Ignis. 

"Very well. A rematch it is!" 

Ignis grinned as he watched Marzio jump over the palisade to join him in the ring. "I would lose the shirt, if I were you," he told the general. Then he asked for silence, and made his way towards the centre. 

Marzio heeded his advice, then followed suite. It was not like he was ashamed with his own body, right? And it would also offer his new-found lover some distraction... Well, he would have the same problem, to say the truth, as memories of their night together invaded his mind. 

He treaded on the thick layer of sand which served to protect the fighters from severe impact with the ground underneath. He took position in front of Ignis, grinning. Dreak or no Dreak, he would give him the challenge he wanted. 

Soon they were moving together in a deathly dance, only the cling of metal accompanying their moves. They were both exquisite swordsmen and would not easily give in to the other. The duel was balanced, and it gave Marzio a reassuring feeling. This was different from a real battle - it was not about life and death, but rather about honour and about which of them had the better skills. And Ignis was, by all means, the perfect opponent, reading his moves as Marzio did the same, fully dedicated to their game, at ease with their bodies. If the Demon felt any tiredness from his earlier training, he did not show it. And while at first Marzio had felt like he was having the upper hand, now the situation seemed equilibrated. 

Marzio's tricks did not work, though. Ignis either found a way to parry this or that stroke, or simply stepped out of the Angelian's range if he felt he could not make it. And there was a constant shadow of a smile on his lips, something not even the hard blows could wash away. 

The Angelian felt like they could go on like that forever. It had become more than a duel - it was a kind of lovemaking in itself, without them ever achieving body contact. Each strike, one touch; each parry, one kiss. It made him feel strange, losing contact with the rest of the world so much it was just him and Ignis moving around each other in an endless dance whose moves they alone decided. 

And then, Ignis broke the circle. One strong blow made Marzio's blade fly all the way to the other side of the ring, and Ignis' weapon was fixed in front of him, touching his chest right where his heart was. The prince's smile never wavered, his breath heavy and his eyes burning with passion as he waited for Marzio to yield. 

"Do you surrender?" he asked for all to hear, yet knowing fully well this was not a real defeat for the Angelian. 

"I do," Marzio confirmed, still caught in the web they had sewn about themselves. 

Ignis nodded once, then lowered his sword and let it fall on the sand. He gripped Marzio's shoulder in what might have looked like a friendly gesture, yet the pressure was a little too strong for that. Reassurance, Marzio realized. Strangely, he did not feel the need for it any more. 

"You did well," the red-haired Demon whispered; then louder, "It seems to me you are a little out of shape, my friend." 

Marzio swore lightly, trying to contain the sudden desire to hug his lover and kiss him deeply. He knew what those last words meant to all gathered there. If the Demon monarch had called him 'friend' in front of all these people, then he would damn well be treated as such and considered their equal. Word would undoubtedly spread, and he would no longer be an unwelcome intruder in their midst. 

But Ignis felt the need to do more than that. Not letting go of his shoulder, he guided him back towards the gallery, where Owen watched him with a new-found respect. The captain seemed genuinely surprised about something, and Marzio longed to find out what that was. 

"Captain," the prince said in that solemn voice that made those around him obey without objection, "see that Marzio gets some decent training, will you." 

With that, it was done. Being called by his first name in front of so many meant recognition. No one would dare look down at him without risking the prince's wrath. 

Captain Alisi-Feit hit his fist to his chest as Ignis bent over and crossed on the other side of the railing. Ignis turned and winked at Marzio, then left without a glance back. 

Owen also smiled, his tone reverent. "Well then, _Marzio_... do you still have enough energy left for some more exercise?" 

"I think so. Why do you ask?" 

"I have never seen someone other than a Dreak last this long against him at that pace," the captain confessed. "You have made a very good impression on all present. Including myself." He winked again, "On Ignis too, I believe, though he most certainly will not admit to it. He will grant you every wish from now on, rest assured. In fact," he whispered in the general's ear so that the others would not hear him, "he might even make love to you if you ask him nicely." 

Marzio forced himself to look outraged. "What _is it_ with you people!?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

"You are good with a blade," Ignis observed later that afternoon. They were having dessert - or rather, Marzio had been having lunch when the prince had arrived, so Ignis had confiscated one of the baked apples with chocolate coating - a dish Marzio had taken a liking on the moment he had tasted it - confessing to having a weakness for everything that included that particular brownish sweet. 

"You're not half bad yourself," Marzio replied half-jokingly, refilling his wineglass, and enjoying the delighted chuckle that came from his lover's direction at the clear understatement. "So, any other plans for today, or do I get you for myself the rest of the afternoon?" 

Ignis' expression turned serious. "I'm afraid not. I have a meeting with the representatives of the Merchant Guild, trying to undo some mess Lavian's made while I was gone." 

"Oh. So that cuts our time to what? Half an hour or so?" 

"I was actually going on two full hours, but if you don't want me here that's fine," the prince replied smugly. He knew damn well Marzio did want him there. "Oh, and before I forget - you'll get a visit from my tailor tomorrow." 

"Tailor, huh? And what business do I have with your tailor, pray I tell?" Marzio rested his elbow on a drawn knee, watching Ignis stand and stretch out his body languidly. 'He looks more beautiful every time I see him.' 

"Well, your clothes are getting a little worn, so I thought a few additions to your wardrobe would do no harm. Besides, with autumn here you'll feel the need for something a bit warmer than what you already have. And then, of course, there is the matter of the banquet." 

That managed to get the Angelian's interest. "You mean the one next week?" He had heard various rumours concerning what was to be the celebration of Ignis' fifth year on the throne, but having received no official invitation he had presumed he was not included on the guest list. It seemed it was too much to hope for. 

Smiling, the Demon bent over him. "That's the one. Don't worry, though, I'm making sure your four countrymen are properly outfitted as well. We don't want you to reflect badly on your king and country now, do we?" 

He took Marzio's glass away and pulled him on his feet, putting his arms around him and leaning his head on a strong shoulder. He sighed in contentment as the general returned the embrace, and hummed softly as he led them both through the steps of a waltz. 

"I certainly hope your dancing is as good as your swordplay, beloved. The ladies at Court have been dying to get their hands on you." 

"Hn. Though I _am_ flattered, I could not care less about the ladies. Not that I'm saying you don't have some fine women... But I prefer to think of myself as 'already taken', thank you very much." 

Ignis grinned. "Are you willing to tell them that?" Taking in Marzio's half-shocked expression, he continued. "I did not think so. Nor am I looking forward to it, I confess." 

"Then let's leave things as they are," the Angelian suggested. "A bit of secrecy has never harmed anyone." Then he remembered something. "I was going to ask you for a little favour." 

"Oh?" 

"I was wondering if you and I could... uh... visit Aquiline one of these days. Together, I mean." 

Violent laughter erupted from the Demon. "Did Tanis talk you into this, or have you come up with it alone?" He waved one hand, dismissing any answer "Never mind. I'll take you into the city, if that is what you want. The Harvest Festival is next week as well; that's why I allowed the banquet to be held in the first place. Everyone will be worn out for a couple of days after, and we can sneak out of the palace in the relative safety of anonymity." 

They retreated to the large bed in the adjoining room shortly after, and Ignis sunk contently against Marzio's body, enjoying the sense of safety his lover's arms around his waist offered. Marzio's lips found their way down his neck, and he tilted his head back to allow him better access. 

"You don't want to go either, do you?" the blond whispered, his breath across the Demon's skin sending delicious tingles through his body. "I heard you are not particularly fond of banquets." 

"You've been listening around, I see." There was no anger in the words. "They are not only a complete waste of time, but also money." He laughed a little. "Not that I'm miser or anything, but I can come up with at least half a dozen better ways to spend those funds. The southern roads are getting worse, and we need new irrigation systems..." 

Marzio chuckled. "And let's not forget the sum you'll be spending on some clothes that are not really necessary." 

A well-placed elbow in his ribs told him that was not a matter his lover was willing to be flexible on. "That comes from my private funds, not the national treasury. Besides, the nobles can have as many banquets as they want, provided they use their own income to fund them. I'm not really stopping them from it. In fact, I believe there are several major balls each month." 

"Not that you attend any of those." 

"Of course I do. Occasionally. I have quite a few friends among the aristocracy. After all, I'm supposed to be a social person, and they are partly my support on the throne, whether I like it or not." 

"The pleasure of being a ruler, right? You mentioned private funds, I believe? What are those? I don't recall King Teh-Kai ever having any." 

Ignis smiled, for once happy with Marzio's curiosity. He may have been Angelian, but there was genuine interest behind his questions, with just a faint hint of concern. "The Royal House has monopoly on certain goods. And I own shares in several ventures which earn me good interests. On those I pay taxes like everybody else, of course. On the whole, it's just honest business. It also allows me access to some information that would otherwise be out of reach." 

"You probably have spies lurking everywhere in the city." Marzio stated, resuming his earlier activities with new enthusiasm. 

"Very apprehensive, beloved. But not only in Aquiline. My secret intelligence service operates in most of the territory, plus the Mauri Confederation. I've got several sources in Terlandia. And let's not forget Angelia," he added with a roguish smile. 

"You never cease to amaze me, my prince," Marzio told him, slipping one hand past the Demon's tunic and shirt to caress his chest, while the other lingered over his stomach for a moment, before continuing its route lower. 

Capturing a handful of golden hair, the Demon pulled Marzio's head up so their faces would be only inches apart. "I'll start worrying the instant that happens," he said, bringing their mouths together as Marzio struggled to unbuckle his belt one-handedly. 

Arching his back and letting out a contented moan, the prince allowed himself to enjoy his lover's attentions. 

* * *

Having spent a fairly decent amount of time at Court, Marzio was accustomed to attending banquets. However, he was curious what surprises the night would bring - because if Prince Sagni-Dor had lent a hand in preparing this one, it meant he had had something special in mind. And when Ignis had something in mind... well, one never knew exactly what to expect. 

The clothes ordered for Marzio had arrived promptly, and the Angelian was pleased to see that the tailor had managed to create a perfect duplicate of his high uniform out of thicker fabrics. In fact, most of his new clothes followed the Angelian style to the letter, much to his relief - he didn't know how Kelan would have reacted to seeing him dressed in Demon clothing. 

So, wearing his new dress uniform and accompanied by a Palace Guard cadet - Kheerah was busy helping his master get dressed - Marzio slowly made his way to the banquet hall, trying to refrain from staring at what had become of the palace. 

Each corridor was lit by dozens of torches, and flower garlands held together by red and gold ribbons adorned the walls. The effect was somewhat mystical, giving Marzio the impression of walking through a field rather than a hallway. 

He passed many pairs and groups of Demons: nobles and courtiers, servants making the last adjustments to the décor, and not a few stationed guards. But even these guards looked different than normal, wearing red tunics trimmed with gold, white trousers, boots and gloves, and golden tresses stating each one's rank. The higher the rank, the more gold trimming and tresses, it seemed. 

The highborn were another story; colour was the style for them, in an array of combinations that was astonishing, some of the clothes managing to look downright ridiculous but others having achieved the proper combination and giving a distinguished look to the one who wore them. The Angelian general noticed make-up not only on the women but the men as well, and jewels glittered in the torchlight everywhere he looked. His uniform, of simple cut and not exceedingly adorned, earned him more than a couple of dubious stares from those he passed by; but a rare few looked upon him with something bordering on admiration and respect. 

Marzio wondered once more what could possibly happen that night, and sincerely hoped Ignis would not be wearing some over-adorned tunic of ill-chosen colours. But knowing the prince, he would probably prefer one of his uniforms over civilian clothing. The general unconsciously licked his lips - Ignis looked incredibly good in uniform. 

He finally entered the banquet hall, and for a moment he stopped in the doorway, for the most incredible sight welcomed him. Hundreds of candles made the white-painted room shine like it was broad daylight and not just after sunset. The flowers-and-ribbons theme had been kept in this room as well, but the only flowers he could see there were roses - white and pink, yellow and red, filling the room with a faint scent. The tables were covered with expensive white silk, and formed four parallel lines, two on each side of the door. Carpets covered the floor under them, but left more than enough marble-tiled floor exposed in the middle for dancing. The Prince's table was placed on a dais opposite to the door, U-shaped and with only fifteen chairs, five of which were to be occupied by the Angelians. 

The four Lords of the Angelian War Council had already arrived and had taken their places at the table when Marzio had entered the room. By Angelian tradition, the most honoured guest received the first seat on the right of the table, regardless to where the host sat. It was the position Kelan Loreh-Ven now occupied, followed by the Lords Elssi, Gettik and Angus. Marzio was to be seated next to the latter and an imposing Dreak that occupied the second place at the Prince's right. 

What Kelan and his friends did not know was that, in Demonis, those seated closest to the Prince's right were considered the most important guests. Tanis had only told Marzio that earlier that day, when he had come to congratulate Ignis and inform him he would not be attending the banquet. Whatever his reasons, Ignis had agreed; Marzio suspected Tanis did not want to let the other Angelians know he was still alive, but he had kept silent on the matter. 

Marzio reached the high table and greeted his countrymen most politely; his greeting was promptly answered, with just a hint of disdain from Kelan. It was the first time Marzio would be forced to spend more than a few minutes in their company, having avoided them as much as possible for over two weeks, and he hoped it would not turn into another fight. Hopefully Kelan would behave in the presence of most of Demonis' elite. 

After sitting down, Marzio introduced himself to the older officer on his left; the Demon shook his hand vigorously and introduced himself as Meris Keefer, Master of the Monastery of Dreak. Having heard of the man before, mostly from Ignis who had spoken very highly of him and had called him his mentor, the general was genuinely flattered to be seated next to him. 

As Marzio was reasoning what it would be like to be trapped between his own nemesis and Ignis' allies, two familiar faces approached, and everybody except Meris Keefer rose in greeting. The new arrivals were Lord Lavian, dressed in the heavy red and purple robes of his office, and a young woman Marzio recognized as the one who had been spying on Ignis during his sparring. Marzio realized there was a certain resemblance between the two, only confirmed when the woman was introduced to them as Lady Sanja, Lavian's niece. 

Much to Marzio's disdain, Sanja took the place at Ignis' left. 'Tough luck,' the general reasoned, while noticing the dark looks exchanged by Lord Lavian and Meris Keefer. 'She is a beautiful woman, in spite of the ill-chosen dress and by far too much make-up. She looks a bit artificial... surely Ignis has no interest in her? She seems interested in him...' 

While Marzio had a hard time to decide whether to be jealous or not, Kelan was exchanging pleasantries with Lavian. 'These two are getting along - just what I needed!' he thought, trying to stop fidgeting in his chair and glaring at Sanja with hostility. He hoped the other people at the table did not notice it, especially Meris Keefer and the Demons seated across from him. Luckily for him, the heralds announced the arrival of Prince Sagni-Dor and everybody in the hall had to stand. 

Marzio was once again left breathless as he watched Ignis advancing through the hall confidently, flanked by General Neri-Lokh, Captain Alisi-Feit and six other guards, guests bowing deeply as he passed by them. Ignis looked simply divine, his clothes a variation of the Dreak uniform with forest green tunic, black breeches, boots and gloves, and a blood-red outer garment that rippled across the floor with every step the prince took. The tunic's seam-lines and upper front were heavily embroidered with a gold-thread leaf pattern, and a strange eagle-shaped brooch was fixed on the left side of the outer garment. His reddish hair was held away from his face by a gold coronet, and one of his priceless swords hung at his side. The Supreme Commander of Demonis had abandoned her uniform for a lovely red taffeta dress with burgundy patterns and silver lining, while Owen was wearing the same uniform Marzio had seen on all the guards, naturally more adorned and with a golden circlet on his forehead proclaiming his rank. 

Marzio saw Ignis smile and nod in his general direction before circling the table and helping Tempesta into her chair and sitting down while Owen placed himself behind his chair. Then he motioned for all to be seated, and turned to whisper something to Tempesta before putting on the serene mask he always had when ceremony was involved. Marzio had thought at first it was some sort of religious exigency, but he now knew Ignis was merely concentrating on the matter at hand. 

Thus composed, the prince listened to the speeches various members of his Court, ambassadors and the representatives of the Guilds delivered, congratulating him on his glorious reign and his recent victory and the gods knew what else; for Marzio had stopped listening and was focused on Ignis and Ignis alone. He watched every tiny gesture, every little shifting in the prince's bearing, and found he could determine when Ignis knew those speaking were sincere or not. His lips would curl even so slightly when someone pleased him, a quick frown would pass across his forehead or he would move a little in his chair when he was annoyed with someone else. Ignis was unreadable on only two occasions: when Lord Lavian spoke, and when Lord Kelan followed suite, voice all milk and honey though Marzio could feel the venom underneath. Then the prince replied with a speech of his own, and to his credit he did not read it as many of those present had. When he was done, the banquet proper commenced. 

With the first course conversation began - the part Marzio disliked most, when everybody would gossip and lie under the guise of polite dialogue. And Ignis smiled. Through the first two courses he smiled the fake smile he put on for shows just like this one. Few received a genuine smile, Marzio among them, and the general was dying to know if Sanja did, as well. 

Meris Keefer turned out to be a very interesting person, quite open-minded and friendly. He confessed he had only arrived that afternoon, and had not had too much time to speak with Ignis in private, but he seemed to be very confident in the prince's decisions. Then Tempesta joined in and they exchanged opinions on several tactics and strategies, their discussion turning into a heated debate about the recent battle. Meris Keefer pointed out Marzio's mistakes, Marzio pointed out Kelan's mistakes, Tempesta pointed out everybody's mistakes. And Ignis pointed out his own mistakes, which made a pair of green eyes and two pairs of brown ones turn to him in time to see him grin victoriously, Lavian's niece clinging to his arm like a forgotten weight. 

Marzio realized he did not like the woman at all. He hated the sweet looks she gave Ignis and the way in which she always managed to reach out for something at the same time the prince did, casually touching his hand too many times to be considered proper. It was clear she was trying to gain his attention, which was an implicit threat to Marzio's relationship with the man. Marzio had been hurt far too many times not to notice such details, and he hated not being able to do anything about it. He was planning to find the proper moment to address Ignis and... and what? What could he say that would not sound too suspicious to his table companions? 

"Is something the matter, General?" Meris Keefer asked, pulling him out of his daze. "You went terribly silent all of a sudden." 

Marzio's blood went cold as he realized everybody's attention was now fixed on him alone. He took a moment to recover, not missing the suddenly worried look he got from Ignis. "Everything is fine, Meris. Thank you for your interest," he finally replied, gaze fixed on the prince asking for a little comfort. 

Ignis nodded his way, his eyes and his smile suddenly warm. "I hope nothing has inconvenienced you, Lord General," he spoke, true to his position that night. "I wish for all my guests to feel excellent tonight." 

Marzio smiled back, but at the same time Kelan snorted. "Your Highness, I am sure General Zain-Reil is feeling perfect. Your presence is all it takes for his mood to raise." 

Ignis' hand trembled as he placed the glass he was holding back on the table. 'The nerve he has, to say something like that in front of all the people gathered here!' Marzio thought. 

Prince Sagni-Dor recovered extremely quickly. "Lord Loreh-Ven, I am not very certain I understand what you are implying," he said coolly. 

"Only the obvious, Your Highness. It is a well-known fact in Angelia that General Zain-Reil has a... shall we say 'inclination' toward beautiful men. Like yourself, for example." 

Marzio would have spoken up, and he saw Ignis preparing to cut in; but help came from someone he had least expected. Sanja, who had been following the conversation with interest, exclaimed in outrage, "Lord Kelan, I can assure you there is no threat! Prince Sagni-Dor only likes _women_!" 

This time, Ignis went pale, coughing lightly behind his handkerchief to show his discomfort. He gave Sanja a shaking smile and turned to face Kelan. "My lord, I have long been aware of Marzio's preferences, and yet I see no danger in calling him my friend. As for whom _I_ fancy, that is my business and mine alone." Offering Marzio a little smile as well, he turned to Keefer. "So, what theme are you considering for next year's graduation party?" 

Understanding why the prince was changing the subject, Meris Keefer indulged him. "I was thinking perhaps the Dance of the Seasons. We had a hunting theme when you graduated and... " 

The discussion went off in that direction; then came the time for dancing, and Sanja's efforts to gain Ignis' interest seemed to blossom as Ignis kissed her hand gallantly and invited her to dance with him. One dance became three, then five, and Marzio was now positively fuming. It was not enough that she had been flirting with Ignis, but now he flirted back! And the way he held her, turning dangerously close as the song grew slower and slower until the pairs were practically holding each other... Damn! This was driving him insane! 

And then... then the prince leaned forwards even so slightly, and whispered something in her ear which had her smiling; a smile that widened as Ignis kept saying Seleh only knew what! Marzio's hands clenched under the table and he had to try hard not to let his inner turmoil show. What the hells was Ignis doing?! 

He started feeling misled. He had been certain Ignis was feeling something for him, and that something was not a mere fixation. Had he been just another affair? Had Ignis used him? Was the Demon now discarding him like one did an old pair of gloves? 

His head swarmed with so many questions, and a million possible answers to those questions... He could not stay there any longer. He couldn't stand looking at those two together for any longer! 

Getting up from the table abruptly, he hurried out of the hall not bothering to look back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Ignis took the shortest way he could think of to his rooms, barely realizing Tempesta had followed him. If Marzio's abrupt departure from the banquet hall had raised quite a few brows, his had been a bit smoother but it had cost him a precious quarter of an hour. The prince was not even sure what had gone wrong; one moment Marzio was happy, and the other he looked like all his ships had drowned. The Demon suspected it had something to do with his dancing with Sanja - he had been much too friendly to the woman. But even so, why would Marzio become as angry as he had been? Surely he knew Ignis felt nothing for Lavian's niece! Or perhaps he didn't? 

Well, he had been getting bored at the banquet anyway. He would go to Marzio's room, find out what had happened, and make amends if necessary. Marzio was much more wonderful than he could have hoped for, and he was not about to let him get away because of some stupid misunderstanding! Yes, that had to be it: a misunderstanding. 

Reaching his private wing, Ignis headed straight for Marzio's door and knocked, but he received no answer. He was certain Marzio was in there, and wondered why the refused to answer. He placed his hand on the handle and tried to open it. 

It was locked. Marzio was trying to keep everybody out, then. 

He smiled. The locks had not been changed, and he still had a key somewhere. The room had been his, after all. 

He returned to his own suite, to find his Supreme Commander waiting for him there. "Well? What happened?" 

"I don't know just yet, but I intend to find out." He went into his study and began searching the drawers of his desk furiously. The key had to be there somewhere! 

He emerged several minutes later, victoriously holding a bronze key. "Found it!" 

"What's that?" 

"The spare key to my old rooms. He can't keep me out forever." 

She looked at him disapprovingly. "You're trying to break in? What if he left his key in the lock?" 

He smiled impishly. "There is always the balcony." They may have been on the third floor, but he could fly and land on the veranda. 

"Aren't you taking this a little too serious? Maybe he's just tired and went to sleep." 

He stormed down the corridor. "I sincerely doubt it. Now stop pestering me!" 

He rushed out again and inserted the key in the lock on Marzio's door. Thankfully, it unlocked at the first try. He silently pushed the door open and entered. Each step was taken carefully, in order not to attract the general's attention. There was light coming from the bedroom, so that was his destination. 

He saw Marzio sitting on the large sofa, staring out the window and into the night. He did not move as Ignis approached, and did not seem aware of anything around him. He kept rubbing his wrist absentmindedly and did not react as the Prince of Demonis sat down next to him. 

Ignis touched his shoulder lightly, to draw his attention. "What's going on?" 

Marzio jumped as if burned, swiftly turning his head to face the young prince. "Khest! What are you trying to do, scare me to death?" 

There was hidden pain in his lover's voice. Ignis instinctively wanted to reach out and hold him close, but he refrained himself from doing that, afraid it might offend the general greatly. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I did not mean to startle you." 

Marzio sighed. "How the hell did you get in? I remember locking the door." 

"Does it really matter? Tell me what happened. Why are you so upset?" 

The blond's face remained cold. "I think you'd better leave." 

Ignis narrowed his eyes. "I won't. Not until knowing what went wrong. You seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight." He tried to take his lover's hand in his, but Marzio jerked it away. 

"Ignis, please... just go away." 

Ignis got up and left the room, and for a moment Marzio thought he would do as asked. But the prince returned, holding two glasses of wine. He sat down and offered one to Marzio, in such a familiar gesture that the general felt like screaming. 

His hand shook as he accepted it. "Why did you come here? Why won't you just leave me alone?" 

"Because this is _my_ palace, because I don't want to; and, most importantly, because I care for you, Marzio." 

Marzio refused to meet the eyes fixing him. He returned to staring out the window, placing the goblet on the small table next to the sofa. "That's what you keep saying." 

Ignis was sick of this game. He knew that something had gone wrong that evening, but it seemed Marzio was determined to give him a hard time finding out what it was. He did not like this curtain that had suddenly been drawn between them. Things had been evolving very well up to this point. 

He breathed deeply. "I won't leave this room until you tell me what is bothering you." The general opened his mouth to speak, but Ignis cut him off. "Don't try to deny it. You do not storm out of a room like you did tonight for no reason. Something made you uncomfortable, and I want to know exactly what." 

Marzio clenched his fists, in an attempt to control his anger. He really felt like strangling Ignis, at that moment. Why did the prince want to pull it out of him at all costs? To make him feel embarrassed, maybe? 

He replayed the memories in his mind: Ignis, in the Great Hall, smiling at that willowy woman, Lady Sanja, kissing her hand and dancing with her; whispering words in her ear with the confidence of a lover. He had wanted so much to be in her place... No, wait! What had he been thinking? Ignis' arms, and kisses and sweet words - it was _his_ place, not hers, and he wasn't willing to share. 

But he could not tell Ignis that; the prince wouldn't understand. And Marzio wasn't even sure if he wanted him to understand. 

Damn, just thinking about that woman made his blood rise to his head. He could feel his nails digging in his palms from the tension building inside of him. 

"Marzio?" 

"Humph!" 

"Oh, come on now. Stop sulking. It isn't like you!" 

"Like it would actually matter..." he whispered. 

"Exactly what's that supposed to mean!?" 

Ignis clasped Marzio's hands in his own, but the Angelian pulled them away immediately. "I wonder when you'll stop acting like you really give a damn about me. Go back to your women, where you belong! Just because I was blind enough to trust you doesn't necessarily mean you have to be stuck with me for all eternity! I don't want that for us, Ignis. I just want... I want... Argh, forget it! Now, if you won't leave the room, I will." 

Strong arms pinned him down on the sofa as he attempted to stand. He tried to shake them off, but Ignis only increased the pressure. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong the Prince of Demonis really was only by looking at his deceptive frailty. 

"You're jealous," the Demon spoke in a firm voice. 

He was. Utterly, completely jealous. And furious enough to throw the prince half-way across the room, if possible. "Let go of me!" he growled, still trying to break free. 

"I will do no such thing, my Angelian fool." He looked utterly serious as he stared into Marzio's eyes. "You misjudge me, Marzio. Do you really think that you were just another amorous adventure? After all that has happened between us, do you think I would betray you when the first opportunity presented itself? Think about it," he continued, finally letting go and standing up. "Don't let yourself be guided by jealousy - it will blind you. Consider things carefully for a moment, and then we can talk about it." 

Marzio pulled himself up, feeling a little calmer by knowing that things would be sorted out right then and there, without any interference. 

"She kept following you around like a pet," he said after a short break. "But you never seemed to notice her until tonight." He picked up the glass and sipped a little of the wine. 

She? Oh, right - _she_. Ignis had to keep himself from laughing. He didn't think Marzio would appreciate his good humour right now. "I suppose you are referring to Sanja?" 

Marzio's only reply was a very articulate and eloquent "Hn". 

Ignis took a deep breath. Gods, this needed to be said, and soon. "Oh, I noticed her, alright. She would do anything to end up in my bed. She hopes to have my child." 

Marzio nearly choked. " _Your child_?" 

Ignis sat down on the sofa, trying to get a firm hold on his emotions before telling his lover the inevitable. Smiling with a calmness he did not feel he urged himself to proceed. "Naturally, that is out of the question. Even the thought of bedding her is thoroughly disgusting. But maintaining appearances can have some advantages." 

"Oh, really? And what 'advantages' were there tonight, except making me feel bad that is?" the Angelian asked bitterly. 

Ignis crept in closer to his precious guest. "I believe your real question is why I was flirting openly with her. Well, after what she said tonight, I thought that if I showed some interest in her Kelan would stop being suspicious. That is what we both wanted, isn't it? That nobody threatened our relationship." 

His hand touched Marzio's knee softly, not intrusively but merely a gesture of affection. He placed a light kiss on Marzio's neck, and the Angelian found himself fighting against his body's reactions. The shivers he experienced told him he was going to lose this battle. 'This is not right! I am supposed to be upset!' But it felt pleasant, and warm. Ignis' hands started stroking his shoulders, and he felt the tension beginning to regress. 

"You see, Marzio, I have no intention to betray you. If I had, I wouldn't have asked you to come to the banquet in the first place. As for Sanja, she can wait her whole life for the opportunity. I care more about my horse than I do about her." He sighed, "I am tired of all their intrigues. What I want is someone who does not give a damn if I am a prince or a mere soldier; someone who can try to understand me. And you were doing a very good job at it thus far." He used his fingers to knead the tense muscles of the general's shoulders. 

"I doubt that anybody could ever fully understand you, Ignis," Marzio said. He tried to relax and enjoy the sensations that spread through his body. His anger once subsided, all he could feel was affection. "So you're not planning anything serious just yet." 

This time Ignis did give way to a timid laugh. "Of course not, silly - but I think that depends on what you understand by 'serious'. At any rate, a child is out of the question for now. There are many other problems that need to be solved before that happens." He began to press a little stronger, following a circular pattern around the places where Marzio's wings joined his upper back. "And as much as I appreciate Lord Lavian's concern for the future of this land, I will not give in to this plan of his." 

The general closed his eyes and sighed. He truly hated politicians and their machinations. "Oh, so now it is his idea?" 

A soft chuckle. "Most of it, yes. Of course, he is not aware that I know about it. He and Sanja have been at it ever since I happened to compliment her dancing, one night." 

Ignis leaned in closer, and Marzio could feel his warm breath on the left side of his neck. He whispered in his ear again, as if sharing a secret. He had done it so often, that by now it seemed natural. "Now, Marzio... I have a little favour to ask." 

Marzio suspected Ignis was planning to offer him some sort of retribution, and there was no telling what he would come up with. 'Predictable' was not a word one could easily associate with him. 

He touched the goblet to his lips again, not bothering to open his eyes. "Hmm?" 

"I want to seduce you tonight." 

The Angelian slowly turned his head to look at the young prince. He was smiling too. "But I thought you have already done that." 

"Not exactly, beloved. Not like I have always wanted to." He made his point quite obvious by pushing his hand under Marzio's trousers, and squeezing his behind. 

"You little urchin!" Marzio yelped, a little startled. 

And then the prince added, just in case, "And I'd like to take the lead this time, if you don't mind." 

His voice was low and seductive, and Marzio felt himself shiver again; what surprises did that night have in store for him? Since refusing was not one of his options, he finally gave in. "Alright. But shouldn't we move to the bed?" 

"Perhaps later." Ignis said as he began unlacing Marzio's tunic. "Right now, this sofa looks comfortable enough for what I have in mind." 

* * *

Ignis pushed open Marzio's tunic, placing kisses on his neck and collarbone. He continued to stroke his lover's shoulders and upper arms through the fabric, making his way down the Angelian's torso to unbuckle the leather belt and pull it away. He stole a kiss from the blond, tangling his fingers in the soft curls, and turned him around so he could have easy access at the broad back. His body felt particularly impatient tonight, but he had some special plans in mind, so it would have to wait until later. 

He kept licking and nibbling at his lover's throat, while his hands made their way down Marzio's back, and then up his chest, unlacing the shirt and slipping one hand under it to caress the steel hard flatness of the pectoral muscles under it. Leaning over the general's left shoulder he turned his lover's chin with his free hand and caught that full lower lip with his teeth, gently sucking at it. He trailed the tip of his tongue on the moist surface, and Marzio captured it between his lips, finally crushing their mouths together. 

The Angelian could not recall having experienced such kisses ever before. They were deep and passionate, and made him forget everything around him for a few minutes. When Ignis finally pulled away, they were both panting heavily. The Demon slowly pushed the silk down from Marzio's shoulders, and began the massage again, focusing on the upper back and neck; the general moaned softly. 

Ignis stood, pulling his lover up by the opened ends of his shirt. He removed it completely, then stepped back smiling. "Lay down on your stomach. Oh, and this time you get to remove your own boots!" He picked up the discarded clothes and carefully folded them. They were placed on an ottoman nearby, followed by Ignis' heavily decorated outer garment and tunic. 

Marzio had no problem lounging on the sofa. It was wide enough to sleep in, if necessary. He complied with Ignis' wishes, wondering what the prince was planning. If it was anything like the last time they had argued... 

The red-haired Demon straddled his legs, and began to stroke Marzio's back with wide movements, occasionally going up his wings and then down again, to caress the sensitive area where wings were joined to shoulder blades, following a pattern only he knew. Marzio began to feel a pleasant heat spreading through his body as his lover focused on certain sensitive points. 

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, resting his head on his crossed forearms. 

"What does it look like?" 

'Like you were trying to stop my heart,' Marzio thought. But he just limited himself to the mock-protest "I've had a massage before; it's not supposed to feel like this." 

Ignis giggled. "I don't suppose you have ever had an _erotic_ massage, have you? Now please stop talking, close your eyes and relax. Focus on your body's responses." 

'Right! Like I am able to do anything else at this moment.' His senses were in rebellion, and by the time the prince finally stopped the sweet torture he had called an 'erotic massage', Marzio was fully aroused. Ignis leaned down to press small kisses up his spine, nuzzle at the soft white feathers, and lick at his ear shell seductively. Marzio's breath caught and he began to shiver in anticipation. 

The Demon prompted Marzio to turn on his back and ran his hands over the smooth chest. "Ready for whatever comes next?" 

The Angelian nodded, slightly disturbed by the way his body stirred at each stroke. 

"Good. Now, just hold still and keep focusing. There's no need to respond, understood?" 

He moaned as Ignis ran his thumbs over his nipples, pressing a little. "What about you?" 

"Oh, don't worry. We'll get to that part later. For now, you are my only concern; and I intend to make you feel this as much as possible. Close your eyes!" 

He obeyed the order automatically, even if it was given on the softest tone possible. He was experiencing Ignis' authoritarian side tonight, and the swiftness of his reaction to the prince's command scared him a little. During the whole time he had spent in the army, he had never obeyed orders with such precision. 

The slim fingers were replaced by a warm mouth, and Ignis was soon licking Marzio's exposed torso, occasionally using his teeth to enhance the sensations. He seemed to remember all the sensitive spots he had discovered during their first night of lovemaking, and took full advantage of this. Marzio's groans grew deeper, and his erection was painfully restrained in his trousers. But he was determined to let Ignis have his way, and see where it would lead. 

All too soon he was drowning in a sea of pure delight. He was warm, and comfortable, and flustered, and nothing else mattered anymore. Just his lover and the profound bliss he was receiving from the young prince. 

Lush lips captured his mouth again, and they began the kisses once more. 

Marzio arched his body up a little, but the prince pushed him back down and pinned him to the sofa with the weight of his body. He rubbed against him, and the Angelian finally caught hold of the long hair, forcing Ignis' mouth away from him long enough to gasp some air before he suffocated. The Demon moved his mouth to Marzio's neck, sucking gently at the tender skin. Marzio bit his lip; he was going mad just from the sensual foreplay. "Mmm... Don't stop..." 

He felt the Demon murmur against his skin, his right hand now trailing the front of his trousers, stroking him through the material. He let out a small whimper, and was soon silenced by the moist mouth pressed down on his, tongue slipping inside, slowly stroking, exploring every inch of him it could reach. By the time Ignis let go, Marzio's lips were swollen. 

The Demon ran a finger over his lover's temple and brow, then down his cheeks to finally land on the oversensitive skin of his mouth. Marzio flinched. It stung, but he did not pull away. 

"You opened your eyes," Ignis playfully scolded him. 

"Yes. I had to see your face. I was beginning to think I was dreaming." 

The prince's fingers closed his eyelids again, his words reassuring. "I know it's difficult, but try to hold on a little longer. Now comes the pleasant part." 

Marzio heaved a sigh. If the 'pleasant part' was still to come, what had Ignis been doing so far? And exactly how long were they going to be able to keep this up? 

Ignis was aroused as well, but he refused to let his self-control slip. He was planning to make up for all the lost nights, for every little pain he had involuntarily caused his beloved. 

Marzio became aware that his trousers had been removed only when the chilly air touched his heated skin. But he paid no attention to the cold; his whole body was on fire, and Ignis was now exploring the tender skin of his inner thighs, nuzzling and grazing with great care, as if taking care not to break a precious porcelain figure. He reached out a hand to fondle Marzio's testicles, cupping their heaviness and pulling gently at them to prolong his lover's pleasure. He ran a finger up the burning erection begging for his attention 

"Ohh..." the general groaned at the touch. 

Wanting to hear more of the sensual noises Marzio was making, Ignis guided the hard member to his lips, hungry to taste his lover's passion. He took the head into his mouth, resisting the sudden urge to go down on his lover without warning. He wanted to see just how much the Angelian was able to take before finally giving in. 

Marzio's word exploded, thousands of colours dancing before his eyes, his sight washed away by the ecstasy of Ignis' lips surrounding his burning flesh. He groaned deeply, and thrust his hips up. He wanted more of that exquisite warmth and euphoria. "Yes... take me..." 

But Ignis would not have any of it. He grabbed his pelvis bones, gently pushing his hips down and holding him in place, determination evident on his face as he resumed his previous task without unwanted interruptions. This time, he leaned down and drew his tongue across the tip. 

Talking a deep breath, he decided to gift his lover with a special treatment. It had been some time since he had last done this, and Marzio was certainly larger than all his previous male companions. But he knew it was worth a try, and the tempting sight before him only served to push on his decision. He took his lover back in his mouth, this time moisturizing the flesh with hungry licks of his tongue, closing and sliding his lips down on the slippery surface. He fought to control the gag reflex, swallowing Marzio's member, inch by inch, until he could feel the head kissing the back of his throat. Satisfied with himself, he started moving, caressing his lover over-sensitive flesh with the wet softness of his throat. Marzio's moans became whimpers and he began thrusting his hips, grabbing Ignis' red hair in a tight, almost painful grip. The Demon didn't seem to mind, instead he took it as encouragement and began to suck faster, swirling his tongue around the head, grazing his teeth along the length. Yes, it had been a very long time since he had last done this; but there were things that once learnt, at next try they came almost naturally. 

'And _come_ it will!' He had to refrain from laughing as he caught up the pun in his thoughts. His lover writhed underneath him, trying to break free from the confining grip Ignis had on the strong hips, to thrust deeper into his mouth. But that would be too easy, and Ignis had no intentions of hurrying things up. So he continued his motions, still pinning the general down on the sofa. 

Marzio felt every nerve of his body go on fire. He wanted, _needed_ more of that heat, he wanted it to embrace his body forever. But such a thing was not possible; he was being drawn slowly but securely over the brink by the chords of his lover's skills. 

"Gods... more... _more_!" he cried out, giving up on thrusting upwards and pulling his lover's head down instead. 

The prince nearly choked, so he let go of the blond's hips and pulled his hands away from his hair, tearing a few strands in the process but honestly not giving a damn about it. He held down Marzio's wrists, and allowed the Angelian's hips to move up in time with the movements of his mouth. 

Soon Marzio's groans were loud enough to be easily heard down the corridor, had anyone been listening. Nearly sobbing, he finally clenched his teeth and hissed, digging his fingers into Ignis' soft shoulders as he climaxed in a gasp of air. 

Ignis waited until his lover had relaxed before he swallowed thickly and released him, leaning on one of Marzio's thighs while he caught his breath again. Once he regained his normal pulse, he finally pulled back, licking his lips, as Marzio reached out to stroke the tender face. "That was incredible," he whispered. 

Ignis chuckled. "You didn't think I had it in me, eh?" 

He was right. Marzio hadn't. "Where did you learn how to do this?" 

"The Monastery. Since there's no stopping a bunch of horny teenagers when they find themselves in a confined space, the instructors always closed an eye on what was going on in the bedrooms. As long as we were there for classes and training and nobody got hurt, it was all right. True, that was six years ago and I am a little out of practice..." 

Marzio made a face. "Out of practice, huh? In that case, I swear I won't get anywhere near you when you get back in shape." 

The prince gave way to a stream of laughter, and Marzio could not help but join him. He knew there was no way he could keep this particular promise; not when the temptation was too great even for him. 

Ignis finally managed to regain his composure. "So, did I manage to convince you there is no reason for you to be jealous?" he asked seriously. 

Ignis' concern made Marzio feel ashamed of his own stupidity. "Very much so. Though it had nothing to do with what you did to me just a moment ago. But what about you? You didn't..." 

A malicious grin spread on the prince's face, making Marzio shudder involuntarily. "No, I did not. But I do not recall having said I was done with you for the rest of the night."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

They lay together a little longer, Ignis' arms circling his lover's waist tightly, his face buried in the golden fall of Marzio's hair. The Angelian could feel his hardness pressed against his thigh, but Ignis made no reference to that whatsoever. Instead, he offered, "Beloved... We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'm more than happy with all the things we have had together so far." 

"It's alright." The general ran his fingers up his lover's back, and sighed. "It's been a long time since someone took me, that's all. I guess I've gotten too used to being the dominant part of the equation. But I want to do this. _With you_. To me, that makes all the difference." 

Fingers turned his face so he could see Ignis' expression; it was extremely serious. "Marzio, if at any point you want me to stop, just say so. Understood?" 

The Angelian nodded, and watched Ignis as he stood up and removed the rest of his clothes. He let his eyes roam over the slim, sculptured body, his mind still trying to cope with the astonishing idea that he had been the only man allowed to possess it. 

Possess. Such a dominant word... still, was it not what he had felt when he and Ignis had first met? 

The prince finally finished and moved towards Marzio with natural grace. He pulled his lover up so he could lean against the back of the sofa, and sat down in his lap resuming his explorations once more, a little more fervently and not missing one inch of dampened flesh in his way. He firmly spread Marzio's wings and then unfolded his. He then leaned over so that their chests could touch, and their feathers mingled together in what looked like a strange ritual. 

Marzio buried his face in the pale skin, breathing in his lover's scent. He had the fleeting impression he could feel Ignis' mind brushing his, foreign thoughts invading him. 'Only my body. They only want my body. You asked for something else.' But it was gone as soon as it had begun, and Ignis' soft smile as he looked at him was the only reality he could see now. 

He focused on his body's response as Ignis slowly ran his hands up his sides. His right one, supernaturally healed, held no scar from the wound he had received, but was considerably more sensitive than he remembered. The warmth spread through his limbs again, and he quivered slightly under the Demon's touch. 

Ignis rubbed his body against Marzio's and claimed his lips once more. The Angelian permitted the clever tongue to explore his mouth, and the kiss seemed to go on forever. The prince allowed both of them short intakes of breath from time to time, but his mouth would remain fastened on his lover's. His right hand descended to explore lower zones, stroking his lover into hardness once more. The Angelian felt he was being pulled down by a vortex of emotions, the young prince's body the only support that was offered to him. 

Ignis slowly pulled away, and drew Marzio down just a little, spreading his legs. His fingers were now touching the delicate area right under his testicles, searching for the small pucker of flesh behind. He ran his fingers over Marzio's opening, trying to ignore his pulsing need a little while longer. Making small circles with the tip of the digit, he slowly slipped his index finger inside, coated only in his lover's pre-cum. He knew he needed to be careful if he didn't want to hurt his lover, for this time they could not count on any lubrication. 

The blond arched his back at the pressure, gripping at the expensive plush the couch was made of. In an attempt to lessen his lover's discomfort, Ignis began pumping his manhood, moving in sync with the in-out motion of his finger. 

At this, Marzio seemed to relax visibly, and when he started to push on his lover's hand, Ignis' proceed to add a second finger, exploring and stretching, trying to make the penetration as painless as possible. 

He hesitantly pulled out. "Beloved? I don't think I have any..." 

Marzio groaned in frustration. "Oh, it doesn't matter. I can take it!" 

"But I don't think we should -" 

"... your spit," gasped Marzio, urgency blurring his words. 

"My wha... oh!" Taking the meaning of the words, Ignis spit-coated his shaft as thoroughly as he could manage without giving his long neglected erection the little push it needed to explode then and there. Sensing his lack of decision, Marzio could take it no more, and wrapping his long legs across the slim waist, he took his partner's erection and guided it to the pulse of his entrance. 

Ignis' eyes widened like two full moons. But before he got a chance to protest, Marzio pleaded through clenched teeth "Shut up love, and fuck me!" 

It was all it took to put the Demon's fears at bay; clasping the back of the sofa with his right hand for better leverage, he entered his lover's body, painfully slow for both of them. 

The Angelian let out a growl that had been building inside him ever since he had learned about the red-haired prince's intentions. Whatever pain he might have experienced was not comparable to the exquisite rapture he felt at being connected to his beautiful seraph in such an intimate embrace. 

Ignis' left hand circled Marzio's torso and crushed their bodies together once more. He tried to focus on giving his lover the utmost pleasure he had been able to feel when it had been Marzio moving inside him. He relaxed his grip and gradually began to move his hips, steadily at first but increasing his tempo when he felt Marzio's inner muscles tighten around his throbbing erection. 

It was in the middle of their carnal dance when something he had read somewhere hit the back of his mind. He had felt it several times when Marzio's thrusts had threaten to split the mattress in two. An all-jolting sensation that seemed to originate in some point deep inside him. Those moments had surely been the highlights of their lovemaking, that and the fact he was loosing his 'virginity' in the arms of the man he loved. 

With that in mind, he slightly altered his position once, twice... "Ahhhh!" His lover's cry told him he had finally found that sensitive spot he'd been looking for. Marzio's moans of pleasure increased in sound and tempo, and he tried to force his body down so he could prolong the incredible feelings Ignis' motions inside him were giving him. His own erection, tightly trapped between the heat of their bodies, was gratefully accepting the friction of the Demon's increasing rhythm dictated to both of them. He almost could feel the prince letting go as his own control completely abandoned his body, and biting desperately into the Demon's shoulder he came hard between their fevered bodies, spilling his seed all over both their abdomens, sensual cries of pleasure escorting his fall into climax. From some distant part of his post-orgasmic brain he could feel his lover's warm liquids sating the thirst of his body. 

They remained into that embrace for long minutes, violently panting with exhaustion. It was Ignis who finally let go of the wood backrest and pulled Marzio's head to his chest with both hands. His heart was beating wildly, mute witness to what had just transpired between them. He buried his hands and face into the damp yellow locks, kissing them lightly. 

"Perfect," he whispered. "It was perfect." And the general could not argue with that. 

The Demon let his hands slide to his lover's face, pulling it up so that he could look into the green eyes. They burned as Marzio smiled up at him. The man seemed utterly content, and a lot more self-assured that he had been before. 

"Are you certain you have never done this before?" he asked teasingly, his voice a little raw. There was no accusation in his words. 

"Not with a man. Not once," Ignis honestly replied. "But you are a good teacher." 

The general chuckled. "Only when I have such a beautiful pupil." 

The prince blushed and tried to direct the conversation towards more important matters. "How are you feeling? I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked with almost child-like vulnerability. 

Marzio almost wept at the naked concern he saw in those large, expressive eyes. "No, my heart, you did not. I couldn't be better. Though I think the bed would provide better comfort for us to rest, don't you agree?" 

The Demon didn't pause to think it over. "Completely. Come along." As the blond took the extended delicate hand into his, his lover guided them both to the bed. 

Once they were tucked under the fluffy cover of the blankets, Ignis proceed to wrap himself around the general's hardened body. This relaxed young man, with a soft, dreamy expression on his face bore little resemblance to the powerful, petulant prince that had dared General Zain-Reil to display his sword skills in front of his fierce, devoted soldiers. 

Here, in his lover's arms, he was no more than a fragile heart. 

* * *

Tempesta woke up at the sound of Owen's voice calling her. Her neck hurt; she looked around to see that she had fallen asleep in one of the armchairs in Ignis' rooms. 

She pushed away the hand still shaking her. "All right, all right, I'm up!" She stood up, stretched her body and looked at the captain. His worried face instantly pushed away whatever sleep was still left in her. 

"Where is Ignis?" Owen asked her. 

She frowned. "Is he not in the bedroom?" 

"No. Nor is he in his study, the bath or on the balcony. And his bed was not slept in either." 

"I know. But he should be back by now." Tempesta rubbed her temples. There was something she had to remember... 

"Where did he go?" 

"Pardon?" 

"Where did he go last night?" Owen repeated. It was his duty, as Captain of the Prince's Guard, to watch over Ignis' safety. Of course, Ignis always seemed to find a way to elude surveillance, but he never disappeared without letting anyone know where he had gone. 

"Hmm... let me see..." Tempesta thought out loud. "He left the banquet hall and came back here. Then he went into General Zain-Reil's room, and..." 

She paused. Now she remembered it. 

"... and what?" Owen inquired. 

For the first time in years, Tempesta blushed furiously. She coughed, trying to hide her embarrassment. That night was something she would not easily forget. 

She had waited in vain for Ignis to return to his suite. After about an hour or so, she became suspicious and followed his tracks down the corridor, to the door of the rooms Ignis had occupied as Prince Heir, and that had been generously offered to the Angelian General during his stay in Aquiline. She had not seen anything suspicious at the time, given Ignis' clear infatuation with the man; but now she saw it as dangerously close to the Prince's apartment, the only thing separating the two being the Consort's suite, currently unoccupied. 

She tried the door handle, and it opened with no effort. She stepped into the dark room, ready to draw her weapons at any time. The living room was empty, but there was light coming from the bedroom, and whispered voices that she could not recognize. She hesitantly took another step in that direction, reassuring herself she was doing this for Ignis' security. If all was in order, she would not make her presence known. 

A stifled cry made her close the distance that separated her from the half-opened door. Hand on the pommel of her sword, she carefully looked inside the room. 

She froze into place, not being able to look away from the sight that met her eyes. 

This was not the first time she had accidentally walked in on the young sovereign while he was having intercourse, and most certainly not the first time she had seen him completely naked - a glorious sight few had been permitted to see, if one would ask her. She had also known that he and General Zain-Reil would eventually end up in bed. (Well, sofa actually, but who was looking?) What she had definitely _not_ been counting on was that she would actually see them in the middle of that act. 

She should have turned away instantly, but she just couldn't do it. She allowed herself that sinful vision for a little longer, knowing that a second occasion would not present itself. And she confessed to herself that they actually looked perfect together. Whatever animosity she might have still held towards the Angelian disappeared; Ignis was very exigent when it came to his bed partners, and would not sleep with just anyone. 

She had finally left, not willing to risk Ignis' wrath if he discovered her presence. She had returned to the prince's suite and waited for him there, finally falling asleep in an armchair. 

She looked up at Owen, who now seemed worried both for Ignis and her. "Neri, what is wrong?" he asked softly. 

"Nothing. All is great. Don't worry, Ignis is fine. Better than fine, actually. It's just that..." She tried to find the right words to say, and stumbled in her own thoughts. "When was the last time he spent the whole night with one of his affairs?" 

Owen raised a brow. "After Rasya's death? Never, as far as I can recall. Did he and the general...?" 

"What do you _think_?! But he really should be back by now. It's well past dawn." 

"Well, one of us has to go check if he is still there." He looked straight at her. 

"Absolutely not! I am not going in there..." '... again,' she almost said, but stopped just in time. "You go!" 

Owen had never seen Tempesta this troubled before. There was something she was not telling him, and it was driving him mad to find out what that was. "Alright. We both go," he offered, reaching out his hand gallantly. "Shall we?" 

So Tempesta sneaked into the room again, this time accompanied by Owen. She remembered that the door had not been locked, as Ignis always did when he wanted privacy. She wondered if he had forgotten, or he had simply not been planning for things to happen as they did. Was he suddenly doing something _spontaneous_ for a change? 

She had half-expected to find them still in bed, but they were not. There was laughter coming from the bathing room though, and this time she recognized both voices. 

She sighed in relief. "We are done here, let's go," she whispered to her companion. 

"Not a chance," he whispered back. "I am not going anywhere until I make sure he is perfectly safe." 

Tempesta suspected he was more curious than she had been, and pulled him away from the door. There was no way she would let him see something like that - he would enjoy it far too much for her taste. "I'll look," she whispered. She glanced past the open door, taking great care not to be discovered. 

Apparently she had nothing to fear; Ignis and Marzio had other things on their mind than look after possible intruders. The Angelian did not seem to care about such things in the first place, and Ignis must have probably just forgotten the doors were unlocked. 

They were both inside the large bath, drops of sweat and warm vapours clinging to their bodies. The Angelian had his back to the door, and was nibbling at Ignis' neck - or at least that's what it looked like to her. Ignis' eyes were closed, and the expression on his face pure rapture. It looked like he was enjoying this greatly. 

A chill ran down her spine; this was not just another one of the prince's regular affairs. And as if that was not sufficient, she was getting turned on by the quite erotic image in front of her eyes. 

For an instant, she actually believed she would get away with the intrusion, but in a split second the prince's eyes snapped open and fixed on her, as if he had known she was there all along. A wide, utterly wicked grin spread across his face. He winked, like he _dared_ her to interrupt them. 

She drew back immediately and was out of the suite in less than a minute, dragging Owen along. She closed the heavy door and rested against it, closing her eyes and taking short breaths. 

"What did you see?" the young Captain asked her. 

Tempesta looked right at him. No use denying your feelings; wasn't that what Ignis had told her once? 

She stepped away from the door. "Nothing that I haven't seen before. Come along," she gestured towards the stairs. "Let us return to my quarters. I feel... inspired," she whispered seductively. And she knew fully well Owen would never refuse such an offer, when coming from her. 

* * *

Marzio decided one never truly sneaked out of a palace unless one did it in the company of royalty. After a truly glorious night, and a very refreshing start excessively late that morning, the prince had made up his mind it was time for the Angelian general to get his glimpse of Aquiline, and Marzio was not one to complain. So they dressed in merchant grab and, having left a note of their whereabouts Tempesta was to receive from Kheerah later that afternoon, somehow managed to end up into the crowd filling the streets of Aquiline undetected by the guards. Having more experience at this than the general, Ignis naturally chose the safest way out: to the servants' buildings and then out the back gate, where there was only one guard posted. The prince told him something and the man let them pass without a second thought, just nodding slightly in acknowledgement of his sovereign, a minimal gesture both Ignis and Marzio appreciated. 

For the Angelian it was strange to find himself in the city with only the prince, walking through the crowd as if they belonged there. He had heard of nobility going out incognito, but he did not think Princess Selena had ever gone out on such occasions without at least three bodyguards accompanying her. Of course, she was not the warrior Ignis was. And from what he had heard, the prince had gone out _alone_ and come back in one piece. He really didn't know why he was worried. 

Ignis warned him to stay close; the streets were a maze packed with people that had come from all over the country for the Harvest Festival. Merchants and peddlers, actors and musicians, simple country folk and even some noblemen, all could be found on the streets of Aquiline. No one paid any attention to either of them, though Marzio had expected the guards that had passed them to recognize at least their prince if not him as well. 

Through the mixed crowd it seemed they were all but invisible. Various other Angelians greeted Marzio out of courtesy; he knew none of them. He thought he'd seen some familiar faces in a group of Royal Guards, but Ignis had avoided that one for obvious reasons. The others, from the City Guard, he had no ways of knowing, although he easily recognized their uniform from the descriptions he had read and heard. 

They walked through streets and markets, stopping in front of this and that stall; Ignis bought sweet-mead and some apple pie for them both, waving away Marzio's offer to pay his own share with an annoyed air. "You are my guest, remember? I would feel offended. Besides, it's not like I'm trying to buy something really expensive here!" Later they stopped for a performance on an improvised stage, with the topic that was on everybody's lips, the recent crash between the Angelian and Demon army. They laughed heartedly at seeing themselves portrayed on the stage, Ignis by a man twice his size and a hand-span shorter, and Marzio not much better off. The prince softly cursed his people's vivid imagination, and Marzio mentioned the image his own countrymen had of the Prince of Demonis, which sent them both in another fit of mirth and grasping for breath five minutes later. 

By the time they entered a tavern, early in the evening, Marzio was already a little tipsy. The prince - who had shamelessly held his lover's hand and casually brushed against Marzio's body all the time, for who was to know their real identities? - said it was not a problem. Besides, Ignis was flushed with drink himself. How many mugs of mead had they had, anyway? More than five each, that was for sure. 

The servant girl led them to a free table, rare occurrence in a packed place like that, flirting with both of them as she did with all the patrons, but a little more interested in Marzio in particular which made him feel awkward. But it passed. They were joined by none other than Tempesta and Owen, both in civil clothing but not hiding their faces. From then on, the evening turned into a pleasant conversation over dinner and enjoying the Demon dancers that entertained the crowd. 

Marzio had his eyes on a particular dancer, a girl moving gracefully to the sound of the lute. He was not attracted to her in a physical way, but rather to the intoxicating way in which she moved. It was splendid. 

"A good dancer, that one," Tempesta commented over the table, following his gaze. 

"She is," Ignis confirmed, sliding one hand under the table to rest it on Marzio's thigh. 

Marzio sighed and squeezed it with his own. "I'm sure you would do much better than she," he told his lover. 

The prince chuckled. "Your faith in my talents is remarkable. Do you want me to give it a try?" 

"What? In a tavern!?" Owen could barely maintain his countenance. "Why don't you two go get a room, hmm?" he said just as Tempesta's elbow landed in his stomach, but could not stop his grinning. 

"You've had too much wine tonight, captain," the woman admonished him. Then she turned and pointed a finger at the prince, "And _you_... While you're at it, why don't you try that Dreak dance you do so well? I am sure the crowd would be overjoyed!" 

Ignis leaned heavily into Marzio, increasing the pressure on his lover's leg. "Why general, what a splendid idea. An erotic dance is all they need!" Naturally, it was clear he would not do it, but rather toyed with the idea of having the freedom to do so. 

"The Dreak have such dances?" Marzio asked him. "I was under the impression you only did warrior dances." 

Tempesta shrugged. "We have a dance to honour Drako and his lover Seleh." 

That did it. "Seleh and Drako? _Lovers_? Why, there's an idea!" the Angelian burst out, just as Ignis' hand clasped over his mouth all too quickly. 

"Do not mock these things," he said after he was sure he could release Marzio safely. "I know it may sound a little strange to you, but it is common faith here. And it makes perfect sense, if you think about it. Our people were named after two men who in their turn got their names from Seleh and Drako's minions." 

"Angel and daimon..." Marzio whispered. "You know, there is a certain logic in this. We worship Seleh, therefore our main trade is agriculture. You worship Drako, so obviously you make good warriors. All those legends explaining our physical differences - air and water for Seleh, earth and fire for Drako." It was amazing what connections his inebriated mind made. It was as if he had opened his eyes to a new world of possibilities. "This is madness... and it sounds so true. But what of the wars, 'Nis? What of those?" 

The prince kissed his cheek. "All lovers have their fights, beloved. But peace will come, you'll see. Peace will come very soon." 

"Oh, come on!" Owen burst out indignantly. "Don't tell me you believe all that crap about the Prophecy!" 

Ignis went silent all of a sudden. He turned to his Captain of the Guards and fixed him with narrowed eyes until the man was forced to turn his head away. "Owen, what I may or may not believe about the Prophecy is none of your concern, nor will it be for a good while. Understood?" 

Intrigued by the unexpected chill that had awoken in his lover, Marzio asked him just as Owen was assuring Ignis he had understood, "Prophecy? You never mentioned anything of the sort. What's it about?" 

Ignis' hand tightened in Marzio's as the red-haired man turned to him. "It is an old legend. It says that there will come a prince who will bring peace between Angelia and Demonis, and that prince will be a chosen of Drako. It is one of the few religious myths my people still believe in." 

"Let me guess. Some people think you're the one." Marzio smiled at his lover and caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. "And no wonder, considering all the things you have accomplished so far. Sign this peace treaty and you will be their hero!" 

But Ignis shook his head, smiling sadly. "Even I cannot work miracles. If King Teh-Kai is not willing to sign this treaty, those who believe in me will be very disappointed. And what will happen then?" 

"Stop being such a fatalist!" Tempesta exclaimed. "I thought we were going to have fun tonight, not brood over the treaty. Besides, even with another war coming, you have full support of the army!" 

"Yeah, and you can kick my ass anytime you want!" Marzio backed her up, earning himself three dubious glances from the Demons. In fact, it seemed to him that he was being sized up. "Anything else I should know?" 

"The Prophecy also speaks about the prince's lover, a red-winged angel. But clearly it is not the case here, so we can all go to bed happy tonight. Right, Ignis?" 

Ignis looked down at his fingers, intertwined with Marzio's, and long moments of silence passed before his eyes cut through Owen again. "I am going to pretend this discussion never took place, Owen. I suggest you try doing the same." He then smiled gently at Marzio. "When I take you to visit Drako's Sanctuary - and I _will_ take you there - look at the altar's right wall. You'll find a mural of the Prophecy there. It will probably answer those questions that need to be answered. As for the rest, only the gods can know." 

Marzio agreed, sensing for a moment Ignis was trying to hide something so ominous it could have led the prince to self-destruction if revealed. But he had learned to respect the Demon and his secrets, and he was not about to upset him even more than Owen had. It seemed the rivalry between the two still led to some disputes, and Marzio had just witnessed one. The fact that Ignis was willing to forget all about it said much about his self-control, even if it was weakened by a few pints of alcohol. 

Thankfully Tempesta was cautious enough to put an end to any future disagreement. "You two look tired. Maybe you should head for the palace; I don't want to have to carry you back." 

Ignis shook his head. "I should think I can handle my drinks better than this. But Marzio is not used to our strong spirits. Come beloved, her ladyship has ordered us to leave, and we don't want to upset her." The Demon general waved her hand to dismiss his mockery, but helped Marzio as he swayed on his legs when standing up. 

Of course, this meant that Ignis would have to support him while walking, which was fine with both. It was also a good excuse when they passed through the palace gates again, for the Angelian clung to his lover with all he had, rejoicing in the pleasantness of Ignis' proximity and the warmth inside him. 

The guards had a good laugh at this; but why had they not made any lewd comments? Ah, but Ignis was supposed to only take women into his bed. 

"Prince Sagni-Dor, your palace is enormous," the Angelian declared solemnly while they were climbing the stairs to the third floor. 

He stumbled and threatened to lose balance, but Ignis held him firmly. "Oh no, you don't!" he laughed. "You're going to bed on your own feet. Come, it's not far now." 

He was undressed and put to bed in less than ten minutes, and Ignis promised to send him an infusion to cure his hangover first thing in the morning. Fuzzy and tired, Marzio offered a mumbled "thank you" and was asleep in no time at all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_The massive doors opened, allowing him to step into the dark room. He was used to the lack of light, and knew no creature hid in the darkness. He had nothing to fear, except maybe himself._

_The woman beckoned him closer, thinned hands of a spectre and long polished nails unnaturally visible. Motley wings shifted as did the colour of her eyes, constantly alternating between blue, teal and green. It had always unnerved him as a child - now it was just another detail in a picture._

_He was shaken awake from his stare by the cold, unemotional sound of her voice, and felt his body react the same way it always had in the past, as a frightened, diminutive creature trying its best to pass unnoticed by the sight of a ravenous predator. Even when he thought he was fully prepared for this moment, he couldn't help the tremors that run throughout his body upon hearing that voice, so plain, so unnaturally devoid of sentiments, and yet so extremely powerful._

_"It has been long since the last time you were summoned, child. The master is very contented with your actions so far."_

_He bowed to her; a content god was always a good omen._

_"Are you pleased with the general, young prince? Or do you find him too flawed for your liking?"_

_"He is not more flawed than the rest of us. And I've never thought myself to be any better than he is. As a matter of fact, I can honestly say he's much more than I have ever hoped for," he declared; presented with the choice of a direct answer was a very rare opportunity._

_She nodded. "The time for him to make his choice in front of the Gods nears. Meanwhile, you are not to influence him in his decision. If he comes back to you, he is the one you have been expecting. If not, then your efforts will not be all in vain, young prince - but you cannot force things to go the way you want them to go. Understood?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Very well then. Do not despair; if it is meant to be then you shall see each other again."_

* * *

The delegation sent to negotiate the peace treaty reached Aquiline on the twentieth day of Kheus, although the news of their arrival had come from the city of Celios two weeks prior. The dreaded prospect of being separated from Ignis only registered with Marzio in the week before to their arrival, when the preparations for his and the Lords of the War Council's departure began to be made. Ignis also started to show signs of uneasiness, although never around his lover. 

Marzio had been curious to see if King Teh-Kai had at least found the common sense to send someone who could do the job properly, and was pleased to see that the man in charge of the delegation was Lord Roland Bela-Fer. A good diplomat and an even better negotiator, the elderly lord was friends with Marzio's uncle and a distant relative of Marzio's brother-in-law, Gareth. He also brought the general news from his family, which were greatly appreciated. Kelan did not like his presence as much as Marzio did, but then again it was to be expected. Ignis also asked the his Angelian lover what kind of man Lord Roland was, and the general was very pleased to inform his lover that he could be trusted to keep his word, unlike an "old acquaintance" of theirs that was not directly named in the conversation. Lord Gettik was also to remain with the delegation in Aquiline and the general was more than glad to inform his lover about it; Kelan on the other hand seemed delighted at the prospect, for an obscure reason Marzio swore he would find out sooner or later, certain of the fact the king's advisor was planning something. 

They were to leave on the twenty-fifth day of Kheus, and during that last week Marzio's meetings with Ignis had become something to look forward to. The prince had certain business to take care of but tried his best to limit his working hours to mornings, and spend his afternoons with Marzio. It was a good arrangement, but one that required the general to go drag Ignis out of his work-induced daze every day. He didn't mind, relieving Ignis' stress was something he always looked forward to. 

That was why, early in the afternoon on the last day of his stay, Marzio knocked at the door of Ignis' suite and then let himself in. Usually, the prince was either in his study or the bedroom and thus it took him some time to answer the door, so he had told Marzio to get in and wait in the living-room. Which was exactly what he did this time... only Ignis did not show up. 

But, unlike those other times, the door to Ignis' private study was open. 

Now, the only place in Ignis' rooms that Marzio had not seen during his stay was precisely this study. He had been in all the other rooms, on the balcony - his lover had even taken him to see the Consort's suite once. But the study... it had just never come about. And the open door provided an irresistible pull for the general. So, one step at the time, he approached and peeked in calling softly, "Ignis, are you in here?" 

He received no answer; but that didn't stop an adventurous spirit like the general's. Fighting down the feeling of anxiety at knowing he was invading a strange and unknown space, Marzio took the final step into the room. 

It _was_ another world, in a way that made it certain it belonged to Ignis and him alone. The room was actually smaller than Marzio had expected, and an ordered chaos ruled there. Books governed the left side, on two rows of triple shelves, with large trunks lined on the floor against the walls. There was also Ignis' mahogany desk, just as Marzio remembered it from the prince's tent, except perhaps for the maps which had been replaced by bound volumes and piles of papers. 

A closer study of the book spines revealed they were most codices of laws, as well as others on economy and religion and probably other things of interest to the Demon sovereign. Ignis must have done much of his work in that study, and who could know how much valuable information his desk contained? Not wanting to anger his gracious host on his last day there, Marzio managed to control the strong temptation of taking a look and he kept his hands away from the desk. 

The wall opposite to the door held the fireplace, a log burning slowly in it; hanging above it was a magnificent painting of a Demon couple. Marzio stepped closer, examining it in the afternoon light. Both wore rich clothing and jewellery; the Angelian recognized the man's white robes and golden coronet as being very similar to the ones Ignis wore occasionally. There was no doubt to Marzio they were Ignis' parents. 

There was little likeness between father and son; safe for the colour of his eyes, hair and skin, the young Prince of Demonis was a masculine version of his mother. 

Morgana LeDomme, Marzio knew, had not been highborn; she had been the daughter of a very rich merchant who had acquired strong ties with the Demon nobility, a very smart and strong spirited woman who had managed to gain Prince Nicolas Sagni-Dor's attention and love. Ignis got most of his looks, intelligence and strength of will from his mother, although he had inherited his father's stubbornness and scepticism as well. Morgana had deemed it necessary to educate her son not only in the ways of the ruling class, but also in those of the common people, and Ignis had been a keen learner. The prince had confessed he did not shun physical work, and that fact had proved very useful during his training as a Dreak. Apparently the trainers at the Monastery cared little for difference of status, for all the Dreak were considered equal and therefore it mattered little where one had come from. So aside from a warrior's training Ignis had learned how to do menial labour, and thanks to his mother's teachings he had not complained about it as the other highborn cadets had. 

At any rate, it was thanks to his mother's education that Ignis had not turned out to be an arrogant nobleman and that he had learned to love and respect the common people. And even though she had died when Ignis had been merely eleven, she was always present in the prince's mind. He spoke little of his father, however, although he had confessed he had loved him just as much. Marzio did not know if it was because rumour had it Nicolas Sagni-Dor had been murdered and his assassin never caught, or because Ignis thought his father had been too weak. It was common knowledge even in Angelia that his wife, and later Lord Lavian, had truly ruled Demonis in his stead. He had been a good man, but not too skilled in politics; Ignis was both a good man and a good politician, somewhat of a paradox in a world of lying and scheming. And he was also a good leader, a thing which weighted a lot in a country with a strong military tradition. Marzio had found himself wishing sometimes that Ignis had been born in the Angelian royal family - he would have made Angelia a great nation, just as he had done with Demonis. However, in the end all that Ignis wanted was peace for his country and its people, and he would soon achieve it. 

Having finished examining the painting, as well as the large and detailed map of Demonis and the smaller one of all the Eastern Lands that flanked it on each side, Marzio turned his attention to the rest of the small room. He noticed another painting, half-hidden by the open door, so he hurried to study it as well. This one was a portrait of a Demon maiden wearing a sky-blue velvet dress, sitting outside on a summer day. She had short-cropped hair and was not a spectacular beauty, but her lovely eyes and open smile reflected a beautiful soul and a caring heart. 

Marzio knew who she was even before his fingers followed the fine script on the gilded frame. Rasya Talien-Kay, Ignis' former lover. And yes, he could imagine her playing that part... something inside couldn't stop telling the general he had practically replaced her. But only for two months, while Ignis and she had had almost two years together. 

'Too little, much too little... even a lifetime with him wouldn't be long enough.' He tore his gaze away and stepped toward the right wall, the one with two windows and little else - just a small table containing painting supplies for the easel supporting a sheet-covered canvas. 

"What are you doing in here, my nosy friend?" 

Marzio turned to find Ignis standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a little frown creasing the smooth forehead. It was not a good sign. 

The Angelian did his best to make his shrug look spontaneous and innocent. "The door was open; I called before entering, but you didn't seem to hear me". 

Ignis' raised eyebrow looked indulgent, and that little gesture did plenty to help Marzio relax. "I needed something from the library. _You_ on the other hand should not be in here at all." He sighed. "Oh well. I should have told you not to enter this room..." 

Marzio was about to leave hurriedly but Ignis' hand caught him by the wrist and his face softened. "No, stay. What is done is done, and you've probably seen most of what's important by now anyway. You know, besides you and me only Rasya and Tempesta have ever been in here since I moved in." He nodded toward Rasya's portrait. "Not quite what you would have expected her to be, is she?" 

Marzio had indeed envisioned her different. "She seems... fragile. I had imagined her somewhat more imposing. But then again, I had imagined _you_ different, also. What is that?" he pointed toward the covered canvas, causing the prince to actually smile. 

"Your curiosity will probably be the end of you, my dear general. But not today." He took his lover's hand in his and guided him to stand before the easel. "I find painting a good method of relaxation. This is just my latest work. Go ahead, uncover it." Seeing the general's hesitation, he couldn't help half a grin. "Go on now. I think you'll like this one." 

Marzio pulled away the sheet, revealing a rendered battle scene between Angelians and Demons. And right in the middle of it, mounting his warhorse and holding a blood-sullied sword, was a blond-haired and green-eyed general that looked very familiar. 

Seeing himself through Ignis' eyes for the first time was quite a shock for the Angelian. The painting made him look... very much in control. "This is not me," he whispered. 

"Of course it is. You as I saw you that day, as your enemies saw you. Perhaps even as your soldiers saw you. You had a very thoroughly developed - not to mention twisted - way of underestimating yourself when we first met. I hope you got past it, at least partially. Now, beloved... I have this as a physical reminder of you. But I wish to offer you something to remind you of me as well." 

Marzio looked up to find Ignis smiling, all signs of disapproval gone from his face. So he merely put his hands around Ignis' body and smiled back. "A gift, for me? Haven't you given me enough already, my lovely prince?" 

"It's just a trinket, actually. Something not easily linked to me. I don't want to get you in any trouble with King Teh-Kai." He produced a pendant on a gold chain from a pocket and placed it in Marzio's palm, kissing his cheek lightly. "I've hidden some books you might find interesting in your luggage, but this you can wear if you so choose. Actually, I'd feel honoured if you did," he added quietly. 

Marzio inspected the small gold pendant; it had an oval shape and embedded in it was a ruby cut in the image of burning flames, so carefully carved one could see the overlapping tongues of fire. Elegant and exquisite - something he could easily associate with his Demon lover. 

He hung it around his neck and let it fall over his tunic. "Then I will always wear this in your honour," he promised. 

"I don't need you to honour me Marzio. Just remember me. Always..." he said with a slight hitch in his voice. 

Those weren't the words Marzio wanted to hear from his lover. They were loaded with an alarming sense of... finality. And he couldn't understand why. So it was with that uncertainty and sudden fear in his voice that he asked, "Why do I need to remember you, Ignis? I don't need to remember what I have no intention to forget, ever." 

The almost sad look he received from the prince did nothing to calm his worries, but the solid body suddenly pressed against his did soothed the rapid pulse of his heartbeats. 

"In the game of life, nobody deals the 'forever' cards, my love. Only time will be the maker of our future. And I just pray to the gods that this future will find us together. Now, whatever shall we do today?" he added, quickly changing the course of their conversation. 

"Don't you have work to do? You said you had to get something from the library, and you _always_ work after coming back from there." 

Ignis shook his head leniently. "Marzio, it's your last day here, and most likely to be for a long time. I already got all that I needed, and I'm quite sure nothing life-threatening is going to happen if I solve this matter tomorrow. Come." He pulled Marzio back into the living-room. Telling the general to make himself comfortable, he recovered a pile of documents that had been lying carelessly on a shelf and took them into the study. He returned to find his lover lounging in one of the armchairs, and with many interesting ideas on how the afternoon could progress. 

* * *

Twilight found them in the same place, with Marzio sitting in the very same armchair. The only difference was a sated Ignis sitting across his knees, lean legs swinging over one armrest and wings stretched over the other, an arm around Marzio's shoulders and the other curled in his own lap. His head was resting on a broad shoulder, and he smiled as his lover played with his long hair. 

The prince had been restless and eager to please that afternoon, and Marzio had somehow managed to keep up the pace, still not having figured out where Ignis got that much energy and creativity from. He had also been lenient enough to make love in front of the bedroom fireplace, a silly fantasy Marzio had always wished to fulfil. The general was certain he'd never had a lover like Ignis, nor was he likely to get one. In fact, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ anyone else... 

"You've spoiled me for others, you know," he murmured, running his hand through the sinful red hair again. Oh, what he would have given to do that every time he wanted! He'd never seen anyone, man or woman, Angelian or Demon, with a hair quite like that, blood-red in the evening shadows and shining like liquid copper in the sunlight. 

In his arms, Ignis purred. "Mmm... thinking again, beloved?" he asked in that low, sexy voice that made Marzio's blood boil every time he heard it. 

"I was pondering what I would give in exchange for handful of your hair at my daily disposal. A strand would work too... can I have one?" he asked, getting Ignis to laugh and pull away, only to straddle his legs and look him in the eyes. 

"Your damsel, am I now? Last time I checked, only fairytale maidens gave strands of their hair to their departing knights in shining armour." 

"Well, you're absolutely not a damsel, and I most certainly wouldn't want to see you wearing a dress, no matter how appealing the thought may be. Besides, no maiden I ever met had hair quite like yours, so long and just begging to be touched. Not even Princess Selena - and I happen to know she's taking really good care of hers while you just _have it_. Can I cut a strand, please?" 

Elegant, reddish eyebrows rose and Ignis offered him a mysterious smile. "You can, if you have the patience to braid it first and promise not to tug. I've never met anyone with an obsession for my _hair_ , you know," he continued, while Marzio quickly parted a thin strand and started braiding it. "And it's an obsession I'll reciprocate for these golden locks of yours... hmm so soft..." 

It was an easy job, the fine strands seemingly alive between the Angelian's fingers, until Ignis decided to start nibbling at his neck. And he was hard to ignore when he asked for attention, even harder when he was claiming it, but finally Marzio managed to complete his task and curl the thin, oh so thin braid around a finger. 

"Do you have a knife around here?" he asked, not risking pulling out his own hidden dagger. He wasn't supposed to carry any weapons until his departure, and its presence on Marzio's person in the prince's private rooms could have been easily seen as a threat. 

Ignis murmured something about not underestimating him and before Marzio could say anything the prince reached out for the Angelian's left boot, pulling out Marzio's hidden dagger and giving it to him like it was the most natural thing to do. 

'Well you didn't expect him not to notice did you? He's a warrior, after all, and a damned _good_ one at that.' He used the blade to cut away the red braid - a pity actually, but he'd chosen it so that the place would be hidden underneath a good portion of hair, and cut it a few good inches away from the roots. He returned the dagger to its initial place and was about to put the braid in his pocket when his wrist was caught in Ignis' grip once more. 

"Not in there, you'll ruin it. Look at this." Under the general's puzzled eyes he picked the gold medallion in his other hand and run a finger on one side. A small click resounded in the silent room and the medallion opened in half, revealing a secret compartment. Ignis carefully detangled Marzio's handiwork from around his finger and placed it into the revealed slot, then closed it again and grinned up at his startled lover. 

"A locket? Why you... you... nasty daimon!" Marzio accused when recovering from his little shock. "Were you even planning on telling me about it?" 

"No, my sweet, because I expected you to figure it out on your own one day." He shrugged, placing a chaste kiss on his lover's lips and settling against Marzio's body once more. "Now, before you say it, yes we are both incurable romantics and at times nauseatingly sweet to each other - to put it in Owen's words. And yes, I am fully aware that you would never admit it in public, just as you will probably deny there ever was anything going on between us during these past two moths. But it doesn't matter; it's enough that we both know it. I also want to add that, the next time we'll see each other again, you can expect me to jump your bones as soon as we are alone." 

"Why Ignis, that is a most un-princely way to put things," Marzio sniggered, circling his beloved's waist and at the same time nervously eyeing Kheerah, who had just delivered their dinner and heard Ignis' every word. But the young attendant seemed to have grown deaf when it came to this type of conversation, and Marzio suspected the boy had heard enough of them in the past few months to last him for a long time. 

"Now, oh mighty Demon Sovereign, would you mind telling this humble servant exactly how do you know when we will meet again, if it isn't too much to ask? I'd like to prepare myself in advance for when the hurricane hits." 

Ignis gave in to the laughter he'd been trying to muffle and at the same time caressed Marzio's face. "Humble you are _not_ , no matter what you say. And I hope we shall meet again whenever the treaty will be signed, provided of course you will still want to see me. Look, I know I have no right to claim you as mine, with hundreds of miles separating us. But no matter what, I'd very much like to be your friend if nothing else." 

"I would like that, my prince; and you will always be so much more than a friend to me. I don't think I can ever repay your kindness and attention. You've helped me solve so many problems I was struggling with, and I didn't even have to ask. And I think... I think I feel something for you I have never experienced before." Finally Marzio, driven by an all-powerful desire to reassure himself his feelings were true, brought himself to ask, "Ignis, you have a little more experience than myself in this field. How do you know if you are truly in love?" 

It was the first time since Marzio had met Ignis that the prince stared at him as if speech had left him. His eyes were sad, so very sad, and he reached out a trembling hand to capture Marzio's. "It is difficult to explain. You... simply know it. You feel like you would spend eternity in your lover's embrace, and do anything to ensure his or her safety, going so far as to sacrificing your life and happiness for the one you love. And you would not do this because your sense of duty requires it, but because you could not live with the knowledge that your lover is in danger, hurt and suffering - or even worse, dead." 

For the first time in his life Marzio felt all those things, and more. He felt them and grasped their meaning and all he could utter was an indiscernible sound between a moan and a sob. Now he began to understand everything... 

Ignis kept holding his hand, but squeezed his eyes and lowered his head. His voice was a whisper when he managed to get it out. "I'm sorry; I did not mean to sadden you. You see, I too have taken a great liking on you, Marzio. It hurts my soul to see you leave, knowing what might expect you when you get home. But if you were to stay here they would believe you a traitor, and your family would have to suffer some of the consequences. I have barely known you for a few months; but they have known you for a lifetime. Don't be mistaken, I will miss you greatly. But I know we shall see each other again. And I want you to know that I... I feel for you... what you feel for me... and I..." 

The prince's resolve cracked and his eyes filled with tears. His body shook as he visibly fought to keep them from falling. Marzio had never thought he would see his lover cry, and he resolved that they would not part like this - not like this! So he grabbed the slender body and held it to him, allowing Ignis to burry his face into his chest and stroking his hair for one last time. 

And then the Demon looked up, and taking Marzio's head in a strong grip he allowed his emotions to mingle with the ones in his lover's emerald eyes. His voice was strange, carrying an undercurrent that had had always been there, but muted and barely noticed before. "You ask me how you know when you love somebody. You just do, Marzio, you just _do_. Now, please hold me for a while." 

So Marzio kept silent and held him, not knowing what else to say, and kept his eyes on the flames consummating the lug in the fireplace. A light touch brought him out of it and his eyes met Ignis' gaze. The pads of the prince's fingers ran over the general's face, swift and tender, as the Prince of Demonis brought himself to smile a little. "I will remember you, my brave Angelian. Should you ever need sanctuary, or a place to spend a few quiet weeks, my door will always be open. And no matter how far you are, or where you go, I will always be with you in spirit." 

* * *

The following morning, there was a formal farewell ceremony in the throne hall. Not many people were there, just the Angelian delegation, Marzio and the four Lords, and on the other side Ignis, Tempesta, Lord Lavian, Owen, a few other Demons with important positions at Court and of course Ignis' ever-present guards. Waiting outside was their escort, led by Marzio's acquaintance Commander Beren. Just so that Marzio wouldn't get bored, Ignis had said with a smug smile on his face. 

It was not a very elaborate affair, merely the prince wishing them a good journey and handling Kelan some official papers for King Teh-Kai, "in the hope they will help smooth things between you and him". Of course he'd been referring to their failure to win the battle between the two lands, but he was wise enough not to mention it. Kelan was also wise enough to accept, although it was not very sure the king would actually get those documents. Marzio carried their copies, just in case. 

Then Ignis formally took farewell from each of the four Angelians that would return home. Marzio was the last, and expected the same cool and controlled handshake the others had received. But no; his sweet, tormenting, daimon of a lover offered him a wide smile and a hug that nearly crushed his bones, and that in front of all those people, and actually thanked him for being his friend. 

And honestly, Marzio didn't mind one bit, not even when he received looks that varied from surprised to envious to Kelan's disgusted snort. He even went so far to return the embrace - a bit less enthusiastic, for everybody's benefit - and refrained from kissing the Prince of Demonis one final time. Their farewells had been said in private the previous night. And then, letting go of Ignis with an air as detached from the world as it could be managed, bowed respectfully one last time before turning and leaving the hall, trying his best not to look back. He managed to get into the courtyard before turning and giving one last look at the palace that had been his home for nearly two months, and to the familiar tall figure he could see looking out from a window on the third floor. He sighed and mounted his horse, trying his best not to show his inner turmoil as the small party set on its way for the city port of Quiris. 

* * *

**~ The End of Part Two ~**   


* * *


	17. Chapter 17

## Part Three - Rise of the Phoenix

**Chapter Seventeen**

The travel party arrived in Mnemon, Angelia's capital, on a heavily clouded day in the month of Ghrius. After more than a month of travel, it should have felt good to be back at home. It did, in a way; or at least that was what Marzio Zain-Reil thought. He had missed his homeland and his family, and yet... 

It had taken them more than two weeks of travel to reach the Mauri Confederation, a union of three cites that made trade between Angelia and Demonis easier. Part of the road, from Aquiline and Gheest, had already been known to him, and from there a portion of the road to Tulse. Still, transition from summer to nearly winter had made the road hard to recognize. And where there had once been endless forests and waterfalls, now everything was preparing for the cold season, and the peaks of the Black Mountains were already covered in snow. 

As they had gradually descended toward Mauri's plain, the temperature had risen a little, but not by much. Soon, the familiar sight of the three riverbank cities had greeted them, and they had said their farewells to the Demon escort which had accompanied them. For Marzio, who had befriended most of the riders, it had been a sad leave-taking, for it meant leaving behind Demonis and all that it had meant for him, and most importantly Ignis - Ignis, who had been with him in spirit for the entire trip. 

In Tulse, another escort had awaited them, this time of the Angelian cavalry. Most of these men knew Marzio and had greeted the High Commander with an open heart, if not even relief he was now free from Demon imprisonment. The general had found it hard to explain to them why he was not as content as he should have been, or at least as content to go to Mnemon as the Lords of the War Council were. 

Unfortunately, Ceni Mah-Kel, Marzio's Second-in-Command, had not been able to come greet them himself, which had left Marzio brooding for the rest of the trip. There were very few people he trusted, and Ceni was one of his closest friends and confidents. He would have liked to share with him all he had experienced, but now it had to wait for at least another two weeks. The only good thing about it was he could probably get away easier by speaking to both Ceni and Princess Selena at the same time. 

The only major break in their journey had been made in Scyris, the centre of the province Scyria; the rest of the trip had been another chain of inns and guest houses, and the general could now easily compare them to their Demon equivalents. He had had many things to consider, this time, and a different approach on things. It had been strange, to find he had changed quite a bit in the past few months. Or, perhaps, not surprising at all... 

At any rate, the moment they reached Mnemon he _did_ feel a certain relief, even if it would be a short-term one. 

Unlike the Demon capital, Mnemon had pretty much maintained its initial aspect of a citadel and at its centre was the ancient castle that had served as home for the Royal Family since the beginning of known times. Around it rose the equally ancient city walls, compete with defence towers that were still in use. The only difference from the original plans in this area were the streets, which had been widened sometime in the seventh century. 

Around this core newer buildings had been built as the city had developed until the sixth century, when Angelia had faced an attempted invasion of the desert tribes and another fortification belt had been built, this time in stone rather than clay bricks and wood. Then came the newest part of the city with the final fortifications added not a century before Marzio's birth. All in all, the city consisted of three concentric circles each containing its own share of buildings, from which the newest section was Marzio's favourite. He even owned a small house there, to get away from the castle when he felt like it. 

It was just past noon when they entered the city, and the people who had dared venture out were more than they would have been had it been raining. It was only natural for them, therefore, to stop whatever they had been doing and look at the carriage directed towards the castle, even more so because there were so many guards escorting it. From there, it was just a matter of time until somebody recognized one of the hooded riders as General Marzio Zain-Reil, and a roar erupted from the crowd as the name passed from mouth to mouth. 

Marzio let out a small sigh of relief when the crowd did not start throwing things at them; on the contrary, the people seemed actually happy to see him. That didn't change the fact that, if he was there, they would also know who was in the carriage - namely the Lords Kelan, Elssi and Angus. He was extremely thankful that the crowd didn't try to storm the carriage until they reached the castle. 

Still, he found it harder and harder to explain the relieved looks on people's faces; his mind told him they were happy the Demons had not harmed them, but his heart protested against that notion. More and more he had been divided between the old beliefs that had been instilled into him his whole life and his recent revelations. 

He needed more time to think, to find a balance between old and new - but he couldn't afford that right now. He had to see King Teh-Kai first, go through various discussions he generically named 'interrogation sessions', and then take care of various military issues that undoubtedly required his immediate attention. (Envisioning his desk filled with piles of paperwork didn't do much for his morale.) But hopefully it would all be done in a month or so, and he would be able to take a vacation around Midwinter, in which he was planning on going back to Meralda and spend a few weeks with his family. By the gods, he needed it badly! 

The guards on duty at the castle's gate saluted him merrily, which helped lessen his dark mood by a few degrees. There was an official reception awaiting them that evening, if one were to judge by the great fuss of pages and servants webbing through the courtyard. A small welcoming party awaited them near the main entrance, and another jolt of happiness ran through Marzio's heart as he noticed Ceni Mah-Kel was one of the people there. He had missed his best friend during all these months, and he was the captain had made it home all right. 

There was a short commotion when the Lords of the War Council left their carriage - Kelan threw him another poisoned glare but Marzio pretended not to see it as he dismounted - and the general caught words of worry, reassurance and even happiness among the highborn gathered there. He wondered what would happen when they noticed he was there while removing his hood and handing the reins of his horse to one of the stable-hands, but Ceni was quicker than anyone. 

"You made it!" his Second-in-Command exclaimed excitedly. "I never thought it would be so good to see you again!" 

Marzio was pulled into an enthusiastic embrace that nearly crushed the air out of his lungs and gave his friend a mocked glare as he was released. 

"That is hardly a good reason to asphyxiate me," Marzio pointed out, but couldn't hide the smile that came freely to his lips. "But I'm glad to see you as well." He gave Ceni a look over, noticing the slightly different uniform. "Lieutenant-Colonel, is it? Well then, I suppose things can't be too bad after all." 

Ceni shook his head as he impatiently pulled Marzio after the already departing herd of courtiers. "No, but His Majesty wants to see you as soon as possible. Thankfully he's had plenty of time to mellow down. It seems there are plenty of highborn who didn't approve of this war, and they all spoke in favour of a peace treaty with Demonis." 

"I know. Lord Roland Bela-Fer told me about it before we left Aquiline. He seemed very enthusiastic to start working on it; almost as enthusiastic as Ig- Prince Sagni-Dor." He hid his slip behind a cough; he'd have to get used to not calling Ignis by name, at least in public. 

Ceni kept a blank expression at the mentioning of the Demon sovereign, though Marzio knew his friend was dying to find out more details about the prince. But it would have to wait until later on. 

King Raresh Teh-Kai, an elderly man with whitening light auburn hair and amber eyes, received them in his private office rather than the Throne Hall. Marzio was thankful for it, and of the fact he went in before Lord Kelan. It was a short meeting, and the king looked suspiciously detached; he could only hope the meeting he would have with Kelan Loreh-Ven later on wouldn't change his mood too much. He was asked about how they had been treated by the Demons, if he had learned something useful during his stay, and so on. Then he was politely dismissed, and the king's secretary informed him there would be a council meeting in two days to discuss their defeat in the war. Marzio, having agreed with Ignis that what happened had not been an actual war - a single battle couldn't be called that - but regretfully a slaughter, nodded emphatically and asked the secretary to make sure Lord Kelan gave King Teh-Kai the letters the Prince of Demonis had entrusted to him, and then gracefully and quietly retired, hoping to finally catch up on his rest. 

* * *

The following day, Marzio organized a quick inspection of the troops stationed in the castle, mainly to reacquaint himself with such duties, gave his office a quick dust-over, glared at the pile of official documents that waited for his attention, which was actually smaller than he had expected, and sent someone to track down the now Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel to ask him about it. 

Ceni showed up and they went to lunch, during which he informed Marzio that he had indeed taken care of some paperwork in his stead, because otherwise they would have threatened to overflow not only the general's desk, but probably the floor as well. The rest of the meal was spent in relative silence from Marzio as he listened to a quick review of what had transpired since they had parted ways nearly four months before. 

Still, he refused to give in to his friend's inquiring looks until after lunch, when he got up and motioned for Ceni to follow him, taking the shortest route toward the small garden that had been created near the castle. The weather was still bleak, which meant there would be very few people who would come take a walk in the garden; besides, most of the highborn were having their afternoon rest at that hour. 

"Ask away," he said when the occasional guards saluting them and congratulating Marzio on "escaping the Demons' hold" became rarer and he was fairly certain nobody would hear what was being said by either of them. 

Ceni's face lighted at this, but Marzio's somewhat nostalgic expression kept his voice from being too enthusiastic. 

"So, how was _your_ stay in Aquiline?" 

Marzio couldn't help a small smile. "Very good, thank you. I was fed, clothed and spoiled rotten. I was even taken out hunting and enjoyed it, unlike a certain moody advisor." 

"Ohh... Marzio, Marzio!" Ceni tsked, his good humour restored at Marzio's positive reaction to his question. "You didn't take too much advantage of Prince Sagni-Dor's generosity, did you now." 

"Ceni, curiosity never became you. Although I think Ignis could say the same about me. But I did not have to take advantage of his generosity, because it was all freely offered, and I even had to _refuse_ certain things. If you think my uncle's hospitality is great, then you should spend a week as Ignis' guest and I can guarantee you will quickly change your opinion." 

"And? Anything else I should know?" 

Marzio groaned, knowing well what he was asking about, but just as he was about to reply a high-pitched female voice called out, " _Marzio_! Wait for me!" 

Marzio knew the young woman running down the hallway, a concerned older woman on her trail, very well. Princess Selena had matured a little since he had left, but she had the same pale blue eyes and wheat-blond hair he remembered, and her joyous voice filled the sober corridor as she threw herself at the general. 

The general opened his arms to catch her and hold her still at the same time, and laughed heartily as she hugged him. "Oh, Marzio! You're back! I was afraid we had lost you to that horrible Prince of Demonis. Lord Kelan says he is such a cruel being!" 

Marzio was not surprised that Kelan would spread vicious rumours concerning Ignis. He wondered what the old man had to say about _him_ , though. He would probably have to defend his honour and family name when he set foot at Court again. 

He was now seriously considering going home to Meralda after he concluded all his business in Mnemon for that year. 

The old nurse caught up with her ward, which was still hugging Marzio, and made an angry face at them. "Your Highness, it is not proper for a Princess to run like that through the hallways. Not to mention throw yourself at a man in such an unbecoming manner." 

Selena Teh-Kai pouted, slipping away from Marzio's arms. "And what business is it of yours? I am in my free time now, and I am not a little girl anymore so stop following me around!" 

Marzio grinned at the nurse over the princess' blonde head. "Don't worry, Elissa, you know she's safe with me. I'll keep any vicious courtiers away from Her Highness and bring her to her rooms unharmed." 

Elissa threatened him with a finger. "You'd better take good care of my angel, General Zain-Reil, or you will not hear the end of it!" Then she turned and walked back the way she came, shooting glances behind her when she thought the three were not looking. 

Selena quickly straightened the skirts of her gown with a hand and took on a proud stance. "Welcome back General Zain-Reil," she said gravely and offered Marzio her small hand. 

The general took it in his and kissed it reverently, smiling at his young friend. "It is a pleasure to be back, Your Highness. I am glad to find you in such good health." 

Then he grinned and grasped her around her slim waist, spinning her around once while she cried out in surprise. Setting her back on her feet, he offered her his arm which she kindly accepted like the well-bred princess she was supposed to be. They started walking through the corridor, Ceni one step behind. For some reason, Ceni and Selena had never gotten along quite well, but for as long as he was there they would likely not try to insult each other in any way. Besides, he had gotten his wish: he wouldn't have to answer the same questions more times than necessary. 

Mnemon was much warmer than Aquiline, especially in winter, so the three found a deserted bench and sat down so Marzio could give them all the answers they wanted in relative privacy. 

Selena was the first one to question him. "So tell me, did they really keep you closed in your rooms and only let you out every now and then? Lord Kelan said he's had such a horrible time, not being able to breathe without anyone watching!" 

Marzio gave her a worried look. "Is that what he says? Because I was under the impression he was as free to roam the castle as I was, and I never saw one guard following him." 

"Then Prince Sagni-Dor didn't keep you locked up? He didn't force you to betray Angelia?" she asked, looking at him with widened eyes. 

Marzio shook his head. "Ignis had no need to interrogate us, he already knew all he wanted to know through his spies. Quite the contrary, he was a very kind person who tried to make our stay there as pleasant as possible." 

Ceni chuckled at this, and Selena looked at both to see what was so funny. "And he's not a cruel tyrant?" 

"No, he is a wonderful human being. I think you would really like him if you met him." 

"Yes, princess, you probably would," Ceni intervened. "Marzio seems to have liked him quite a lot." 

Selena jumped up at the words and turned to the general. "Really? He and you? That is _so_ romantic! But... does father know?" she asked cautiously. "Marzio, say you haven't told father! He would be extremely furious!" 

"No, princess, I haven't told your father; nor am I planning to. And I trust you will keep this little secret." 

She smiled up at him. "Oh, Marzio, of course I will. There is nothing more romantic than forbidden love!" 

Well, Marzio honestly didn't see it as romantic as she did, but he supposed young women should be allowed to dream, especially in Angelia where they rarely could do anything else. However he was certain she would not say a word, although she would squeeze every little detail out of him. Unlike her father, Selena had a quick and inquisitive mind, and had she been born a man she would have become a great sovereign. As it was, he could only hope that things would either change in Angelia, or that her husband would listen to her advice. 

"So, what's he like?" she asked, peering up at him from under lowered lashes. "If _you_ liked him, he can't look anything like those silly gossips at Court describe him. He has no eyes that burn your soul, right?" 

"Well, that is perhaps the only half-true thing they say about him. He has incredible eyes, dark burgundy in colour, and he does have the ability of reading people very easily. But that is all. And he is very, very beautiful. Ceni saw him, so he can confirm this." 

Ceni nodded from next to him. "He would look very Angelian, if he had white wings and no accent." 

"Really?" 

"Yes," Marzio confirmed. "He has waist-long red hair and very pale skin. I thought he was a half-breed at first, but apparently there is no drop of Angelian blood in his veins. And he is everything a true prince should be like; which is probably why he has such an impact on everybody. The women are crazy about him - it was a bit embarrassing for me at first." 

"And you and he... you know?" Selena asked. 

Marzio blushed. "Yes, we did," he confessed. 

"I knew it!" Ceni declared. "I knew you would!" 

"But isn't that bad? I mean, you were his hostages and he was the enemy and..." 

Marzio smiled. "Easy, Selena. All that is good and true, but Ignis is not the type to force information out of someone that way. In fact, I was repeatedly assured he doesn't mix business with pleasure and warned not to take advantage of his kindness. Hell, General Neri-Lokh threatened she'd kill me if I harmed their precious Prince in any way." 

"Hn. She seemed like the type," Ceni mumbled, his comment almost forgotten as Selena wanted to know _everything_ about what Demonis was like, and the discussion turned into a description of the land as Marzio saw it. He took great care to outline the fact that Demons were not too different from Angelians, but that their mentality was very different from what Angelian philosophers and politicians claimed it to be. He could see the princess practically feeding on his words, her youthful curiosity winning over indoctrinated beliefs. Perhaps that was the way to follow, then - showing the younger generation how old-fashioned Angelian mentality was. 

"They are extraordinarily open to new ideas," he finally said, "and eager for peace. And yet they would die to protect their homeland from invaders. Ignis in particular told me that the path to peace is hard, and even with a peace treaty they wouldn't stop training soldiers, because that would mean that they would forget how to protect their land. He said that a piece of paper and an empty promise cannot defend a person against a well-aimed arrow or a sharp sword." 

Ceni nodded. "He sounds a bit like Lord Tanis Seer-Nis. Too bad your uncle's friend is dead, I'm sure he would have been a useful emissary to our delegation." 

Marzio wavered, not knowing if he should tell them that Tanis was still alive, and had been Ignis' teacher. Lord Roland had been thrilled to have Tanis act as an intermediary between Demons and Angelians, but he was the only member of the delegation that knew the old strategist was alive and their collaboration was a well-kept secret. 

"There are other pacifists in the Council," Selena informed them merrily. "I'm sure this peace treaty will have plenty of support. But father is still a little upset about the army's failure. I'm not sure he holds you responsible, Marzio; and _I_ think it was Lord Loreh-Ven's fault. But nobody cares about what I think." She pouted a little and stood up abruptly. "It's not fair! They treat women as equals in Demonis! Why don't we?" 

Ceni seemed a bit outraged, but Marzio simply shrugged. "With a bit of luck, one day we will. If we open our borders and allow Demon culture to influence us, it will happen. Hopefully we'll all come to work out our differences and become one people again." 

"That will be hard," Ceni intervened. "Not everybody is as tolerant as you two. Some of us still see the Demons as inferior, you know..." 

"Oh, come on! I know you were in favour of the peace talks!" Selena pointed a finger at Ceni accusingly. 

"That has nothing to do with it! Tradition demands that we don't mix with Demons!" Ceni retaliated. 

Marzio groaned as they kept on arguing. "Enough! Selena, you shouldn't act like this. You are the Princess Heir of Angelia, after all; you should express your ideas gracefully, not by yelling at people. And Ceni," he turned to his other friend, "you shouldn't defend a position you don't believe in. Selena is right, you supported the peace delegation. And as far as I recall you also practically gloated in knowing that I would have a relationship with Ignis if I stayed in Demonis... so you're not one to talk against mingling with Demons. Besides, don't think I didn't catch you checking out General Neri-Lokh when you thought no one was looking." 

Ceni's eyes went wide as Selena burst into laughter.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Marzio made it to Meralda by Midwinter, just as he had hoped. Unfortunately, his other hope - that he would forget about Ignis for a while - did not come true. As days and weeks passed by, he had felt the prince's absence keener than he had before, especially now that he was surrounded by people he knew and who knew him. Their presence was welcomed... but something was missing. 

He'd also run across some of his former lovers in Court. And while he liked having his friends around, his former lovers were an entirely different story - especially those who had tried to get him back into their bed for however long they were willing to this time. He found this utterly disgusting - and them rather plain compared to Ignis. He knew it was not at all a fair comparison, but he couldn't help making it every time someone showed interest in him. He found himself looking at red-haired courtiers more than he looked at others, but he was still not satisfied. That something was still missing. 

Finally he'd given up on the idea of finding a new lover anytime soon - technically he and Ignis had never broken up, had they? - and abandoned Mnemon for a few quiet weeks spent with his family. 

Everyone at Meralda Castle had been overjoyed to have him back, from his family to the lowest servant. He found himself cosseted from the day he'd gotten there, and treated as if he had been gone for ages, not a mere year and a half. He had missed them as well, and delighted his niece and nephew with stories of his exploits. 

Still, that did not explain why he spent most of his nights awake, exploring the castle that had housed many generations of the Zain-Reil family and which should have made him feel at home, yet did not. It didn't account for him daydreaming about things beyond his reach. 

And it did not account for him being all alone in the library two nights before the Midwinter Festival, leaning against the cold glass of a window with his gaze lost in the distance. 

Just like his friends and acquaintances, his family had noticed the changes in him, but had yet to confront him about this. Therefore it was no great surprise when his uncle approached him that night. 

Marzio had not heard him come into the room, but he had been lost in thought for nearly two hours so to him it was understandable. There was only one man who could have made him aware of his presence the instant he was in the room, and it wasn't Lord Derek Zain-Reil. Therefore the hand on his shoulder startled him a bit, and he turned questioning green eyes on his uncle. 

The Count looked young for his age, which was nearing its sixth decade. He was a bit shorter and sturdier than Marzio, and his hair was nearly white now. Yet his eyes had not changed, of a dark blue colour and betraying wisdom. Derek had been in the army as a youth, but had not made a career out of it as had Marcus, his elder brother and Marzio's father. Instead, he had been the one in charge of the family's estate, and had done a great job in Marzio's opinion. Sadly, he had never married and had no children of his own; it had come as no great surprise when he had practically 'adopted' his brother's family after Marcus' death and had named Marzio his heir. 

And now, he was there to confront his nephew about whatever troubled him. And the young general was not sure he was ready to speak about it just yet. 

There was a short silence before Derek asked Marzio to sit down and talk to him. The younger Angelian nodded and did as told, not certain what he could tell his uncle and what he should keep to himself. After all, Derek was one of the 'old school' Angelians and there was no way to predict his reaction at the news that his nephew was in love with the Prince of Demonis. Still, there were other matters, such as those Marzio had already discussed with Ceni and Selena, and they were a much safer topic. The count may have been 'old school', but he was also tolerant and open-minded. 

Marzio's discoveries about the Demons' nature and the differences between Angelian beliefs and reality were met with a raised brow, but as he continued his explanation as to _why_ he though diplomatic relations with Demonis had to be improved Marzio was amazed to see his uncle nod several times. 

"Ideas such as these will be frowned upon in many circles," he finally said. "But I can understand their appeal to you. And while many people will not understand them, the younger generation can be influenced much easier. If a long-term peace treaty between our lands is achieved, mentality is bound to change due to the cultural exchange. Still, I am not overly-confident in this treaty project the Demons have come up with." 

Marzio shook his head. "It is a revolutionary concept, uncle. I read it, and could see little wrong with it. I'm sure they will come to a settlement that is beneficial to both sides. From what I have seen, the Demons are very open to other cultures, ours in particular. Think about the Mauri Confederation and what has been accomplished there!" 

A shadow ran over Lord Derek's face. "Yes, it is true. The Confederation is a perfect example of cohabitation and collaboration between our two people. Yet I doubt Prince Sagni-Dor will be careless to open his borders to everyone once a peace treaty has been signed. From what you tell me, he is much too clever to make such a great mistake." 

Marzio, who had taken care not to talk about Ignis unless he did it in the most detached way he could manage, could not help startle a bit at his uncle's mention of his beloved. 

"Yes, he is... an extraordinary person," he replied, his eyes positively glowing at a more private memory of the red-haired Demon. "He had a great influence on me," he finally admitted, to his uncle as well as to himself. 

Derek's gaze darkened at that. "I can see that you have indeed changed a lot, and hope it's for the better. But I want you to listen to my advice. I know that the Demons are an appealing people to us, but their influence is not always a good thing. I too have been fascinated by them in my youth, and that experience has left a bitter taste in my mouth. I cannot say it will be the same with you, as your experience was different from mine. But promise me you will be careful, and not take everything you saw or heard when you were among them at eye value. I hope you have not been deceived, but still it would be better to be cautious when it comes to trusting a Demon. You never know what surprises he has in store for you." 

Derek's bitter tone was clear, and Marzio wondered what had happened to make his uncle think that way. Yet he did not wish to upset him, so he promised to think things over again. He did not believe Ignis had deliberately deceived him... but could he have done it unintentionally? 

The thing was, he realized after his uncle had left, that it did not matter. He still missed Ignis more than he'd thought it possible, and the more time he spent away from him the more his longing grew. 

* * *

On the other side of the Mauri, things were not going much better. 

The Midwinter Day celebration was the usual loud and lavish affair, with all the important families attending the celebrations at Court and everybody reminiscing what the year had been like for them and sharing stories with anyone that was willing to listen. 

All those present seemed to be in good spirits... All safe him, that is. Ignis, seated in his regular place at the high table, tried his best not to let his foul mood show and pretend he was actually interested in what was being said to him. He masked a yawn fixing his eyes on the man speaking to him over the table, a young thing he had not seen before but whose parents had to have enough money to introduce their son at Court. He could not remember the youth's name, nor could he remember those of all the others that had spoken to him that evening. 

To the Prince of Demonis, life had lost its taste. He was aching. And the worst thing was he had begun to alienate himself from his friends, spending more and more time buried in work. The more he kept busy, the less time there was for memories to invade him, for him to think of Marzio. 

Seated next to him, Sanja had made another off-hand comment. He knew that because Tempesta was rolling her eyes, annoyed with the other woman. It was just as well - he had no idea what Lavian's niece had said. To him, the whole congregation was moving in slow motion. He could see people laughing, drinking too much, dropping their food, flirting, trying to sneak out with a lover or a bed companion and find an empty room. 

It was that which bothered him most. He could have anyone in there, had he wished to. But the only one that he wanted was not present, and he did not even know if he would see the man again. 

"... and it would be wonderful if you could attend, my lord. Oh please, will you come?" 

He sighed. Where did the accursed woman want to take him this time? "I'm sorry, my lady, but I am extremely busy these days. I am trying to improve the efficiency of..." Of what? He had no idea what to tell her, he had already come up with all the possible excuses. 

"Our southern commercial routes," Tempesta offered. 

"But you were working on that one month ago!" the woman complained. 

"Well, I was not satisfied with the result!" 

His voice had been loud enough to interrupt all conversation at the adjoining tables. Damn! He held his forehead in one hand and fought the sudden desire to scream. He was getting angry. He never got angry. Jaded, annoyed, nervous perhaps, but not angry. He had to get out of there, and soon! 

He got up. "Please excuse me. I am not feeling very well tonight. It must be all the wine. Have a pleasant evening." 

"Good night, Your Highness," several dozen mouths said at the same time. 

He made for the nearest door and hurried down the corridor with no precise destination. Things were beginning to get out of hand, and that was never a good sign. Not for him, who had always been able to control his emotions. All he felt now was a great emptiness eating his insides, getting hold of him every time he closed his eyes. 

'Why do I have to keep going on like this? Why can't I forget him?' 

Without realizing it, he approached the palace gardens. Everything was covered in a thick layer of snow, small stars glittering surreally in the night light. No windows here, no candlelight to spoil the moon's gilding on the pure white. Strangely, it was not excessively cold either. Alone under an arch, the prince felt he was part of a large spell that shrouded this little piece of the world, and his heart with it. 

He had to try and forget the bitterness. It was not the end of the world. He had to move on, like he had already done three times before. 

'Yes, but this time it's different. He isn't dead. 

'I wonder what he's doing tonight. Has he found someone to keep him warm, or is he feeling as cold and alone as I do?' 

"My lord, there you are!" 

He startled and turned to see who dared disturb him. Sanja again. It seemed the woman never got tired of stalking him. He had to put an end to this, and soon; or he might do something he would later regret. 

"What is it now?" he asked passively, keeping his eyes on the snow-covered path guarded by evergreens. 

"My Lord Prince, I cannot help but notice you have been extremely weary these past weeks." 

'And here you are ready to revel in it!' He kept the thought to himself. "Lady, I have an excessive amount of work, and it requires my full attention." 

"But you hardly come down to dinner anymore! You missed my coming of age party!" 

'I know, you stubborn goat! And I did it on purpose, in case you haven't noticed!' "My apologies, I have had the tendency to lose track of time lately. Now, what was it that you wished again?" 

She looked at him with puppy eyes, smiling shyly at him, as if she had been taken aback by his question. "My Lord Prince, if I do not ask too much... I was wondering if you would be free to accompany me to the ball Lady Teresa is having in two weeks' time." 

'So you can brag about it for months to come, and have everybody think we do a lot more than share the occasional dance,' he completed the phrase in his mind. 'How predictable.' He pretended to think about it a little. "Let me see... Lady Teresa is having a party when? Oh yes. But I am afraid I have an official meeting that evening, and it would be absolutely impossible to reschedule it." 

"Your Highness, why are you doing this?" she suddenly cried out, and gripped his arm as if she was drowning and he was her only way to salvation. "Why do you always push me away? You know I would do anything for you, _anything_. Just tell me what you wish and it shall be done. Should I lie at your feet and beg for your attention? I can do that. Only please, let me... let me love you!" 

He was sick of her, sick to the point of nausea. "You don't get it, do you?" he said coldly, pulling himself from her grip so powerfully she was forced to take a few steps back in order to regain balance. "All that I want - all that I ever wanted - is _to be left alone_! You irritate me. I don't want anything to do with you, or any of your annoying friends!" 

His voice had been devoid of all emotion. He could not feel a thing for her, not even pity. She was just another one in a row. Marzio had been so much more than that... 

"But my prince..." Sanja tried. 

"Don't call me that! Don't _ever_ call me that!" He took a step forward giving her a look that could have frozen a river. Only Marzio could call him that, on such a tone. "Did you really think that I wouldn't find out about what you and your accursed uncle have so carefully planned? Well think again. I know very well what you are after, _lady_. And you are not going to get it." 

She looked up at him, terrified. "Who told you such lies, my lord? Who told you these terrible things? I swear, they are not true! All I want is..." 

"... to get into my bed, have me get you pregnant and then force me to take you as my Consort. Yes, I know." His voice was malicious now. "If you really want to do me a favour, remove yourself from my presence. I want nothing to do with a leech! Are you still here? Go on, run away!" he snarled at her. She took off instantly, tripping on her overflowing dress several times before she was out of sight. 

He returned to watching the moonlit garden. It seemed some semblance of inner peace had returned to him. At least he would not have to fend Sanja off on every occasion anymore. He doubted she would still say she loved him after this little display. She was weak - he did not like them weak. He needed someone who could take care of himself, who would be his equal in certain aspects. He needed someone who would make him laugh at his ingenuity, who would be unconsciously overprotective and always willing to experiment something new. Someone who would be content with an embrace and not ask him to do things constantly. 

Who was he trying to fool? He needed _Marzio_. The Angelian High Commander was all he could think of. He didn't know why he had bothered not to admit it 

Footsteps made him put his thoughts aside once again and turn to face this new intruder. He sighed; he had nothing to fear from her, at least. He even tried his best to smile as she approached. 

"What happened to Lavian's niece? She burst into the hall in hysterics. They had to carry her to her room." 

"Good." He looked at the snow that had begun to fall slowly, reaching out to capture some of the flakes. They fell on his gloved hand and melted almost instantly. He rested his back against one of the columns supporting the arcade and sighed. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?" 

"Why won't you tell anyone what troubles you, Ignis? You can't go on like this, you know." 

He could sense her honest-felt concern. All she wanted was to know he was not in any danger, and that whatever bothered him would pass. The Prince of Demonis could not afford to show weakness in front of his enemies. They would instantly take advantage of it. 

"I tried to forget, but there is no way I can get him out of my mind." 

"Marzio?" 

He nodded. 

"You still love him, don't you?" 

"Worse. I am madly in love with him. And you know what the worst part is? I couldn't bring myself to tell him this. I was too busy worrying whether he was really the one or I was just trying to convince myself." He leaned his head back and stared at the sky. "She was right, Tempesta. I am not the only one to decide if this is going to happen now, or not at all." 

"Ignis, you are getting cryptic here. I can't understand a word of that last phrase." 

Another sigh. "Don't worry, you don't have to. Let's just say that, if he does not come back to me, all I have struggled for might have been in vain, and we might have butchered a few thousand Angelians for nothing. How long do you think this peace treaty will last? Until I am dead, if we get lucky." 

Tempesta placed a hand on his shoulder. "You worry too much. You never know... maybe someone will show up and sweep you off your feet. Another handsome soldier, only Demon this time?" 

She hit a nerve there, though he could not hold it against her. She was only trying to get him out of this sour mood. 

"Sorry to disappoint you, but it is either Marzio or no one at all. He is, after all, my soul-mate. However, to answer your question: yes, I am going to stop acting like all my ships have drowned, and concentrate on more mundane matters from now on." 

She glared at him. "How did you...?" 

"Know you were about to ask me that? Does it really matter? I'll go to bed now. And when I wake up in the morning, the Angelian delegation would do well and be ready to finally discuss those damned details of the treaty we haven't settled yet." 

* * *

The Demon Supreme Commander watched her friend and liege leave, curiosity creeping all over her. Ignis had called Marzio Zain-Reil his soul-mate. She wondered if that could possibly be true, if the handsome Angelian had meant a little more for her prince than a lover. 

And the puzzling words... who was the mysterious woman Ignis brought up every now and then, and whose opinion had repeatedly topped those of his advisors? She sighed, looking at the marvellous snow-covered vision of the garden. She would probably not find out, the prince could be impossibly secretive when he chose to. She was certain he had told Keefer. Master of the Monastery and Ignis' beloved teacher, the old Dreak was the only Luminate in the land, the only one to be offered the guidance of the Sorceress. 

Actually, she _had_ walked in on them in the middle a discussion involving the mystical creature once. And even now, it seemed strange how Ignis had replied 'I know exactly what you must have felt like' when Master Keefer had accounted one of his particular vivid dreams... 

Tempesta's hand landed on her forehead hard enough to make it sting. 

'Vivid dreams! Why haven't I thought of it before? Perhaps... perhaps the old Dreak isn't the only Luminate in the land, after all!' 

But it would be too much, even for Ignis. He was not only a charming and intelligent young man and a skilled warrior; he was also gifted with the Healing Touch, and carried the problems of a whole country on his shoulders. Surely, he was a good ruler, although it had cost him very much to achieve that. His private life was all he had left that was somewhat his own, and that was not much better at that particular moment. Also, all the Princes and Princesses of the House of Sagni-Dor had displayed a particular talent at reading people like an open book. There was even an old story about an eccentric Prince who could read people's minds, though that must have been pure fantasy. 

But if you added to all that he gift of Vision that was offered by the Sorceress' guidance, you were presented with a lethal combination. And Ignis was of course Chosen... 

Another slap followed the first; then the general began laughing madly. This couldn't be... it was too good to be true... 

'Ignis, the Chosen Prince! Lavian would have a stroke!' And a Luminate also - when it was commonly known that the haughty High Priest had not once been gifted with a Vision, in spite of his position. 'Come to think of it, Ignis also had something to do with that particular revelation... Ah, my sneaky friend, you should have told me something of such proportions was in the making!' 

It was all in the Prophecy, and so far she had been completely blind. The thousandth year, the Chosen Prince, a war between the lands, the coming of the Angel of Peace... If these events were indeed the same ones taking place right then, she had a fairly good idea who the latter would be. 'Why General Zain-Reil, no wonder he didn't want you killed. And the two of you were lovers... I never thought you could be _that_ important!' 

Holding her head, Tempesta swiftly made her way back into the banquet hall. She needed wine, and badly. Suddenly, getting drunk was a bright prospect to confronting the prince about this matter. A good headache would account for her crazy ideas when she woke up the following day, and she would just blame it on her inebriated mind. 

Or so she hoped.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Upon his return, Marzio found the people of Mnemon getting restless, and there had been revolt at nearly every inn he had stayed in on his journey. Things did not seem to go too well between the monarch and his council, and added to the fact that taxes had been high that winter it was no wonder the common people were discontent with the government. Still, he forced himself to withhold judgement until he got to see how things were at the palace, and what exactly the government's new policy was. 

The Royal Castle was bursting with activity even in mid-winter, of course, but that year the nobles seemed more subdued. The general also noticed the increasing amount of time they spent talking in small groups and private meetings, and word among the guards was it that they did not agree with the current regime any more than the lower classes did. Which was strange, to say the least. 

Ceni Mah-Kel told his friend the reason for the sudden changes. Apparently the Trade Council had planned to take some drastic measures to reduce the effect the war had had on the population of Angelia, but some members of the other three Councils had disagreed with this redirection of funds and had done their best to undermine the spending of gold on causes they did not see as their own. This had caused not only confusion among the people, but a gap in the relations between the four decision-making fractions - a gap the kind had, not surprisingly, not managed to mend. Not only that, but with Lord Kelan's return the monarch's judgement seemed to be getting impaired once more, and that wasn't good either. Still, no one had dared voice discontent in face of the king, and apparently he was oblivious to the problems his country faced, spending more time than ever away from court life. 

It was then that Marzio realized just how serious the situation was, and that Angelia would be facing a crisis unless things changed rapidly for the best. And he had never felt so helpless before, and he had not experienced the sudden need to actually do something that would change the course of things since his early youth. And he also realized that this change that everyone who knew him seemed to feel in him was not just their imagination. He _had_ changed, indeed; and he could not say if it was for the best. Because while before he had simply chosen to focus on his military career, now he wanted to make a difference for his people, not just for himself. And this need frightened him. 

Still, it soon became apparent that this time he simply could not stand aside and watch others decide his destiny. Because with the first Council meeting of the year approaching, talk of war was once again on everybody's lips, and this did not bode well. So when he was invited to take part at the meeting, like it was the custom, he immediately accepted - something no High Commander of the Army had done in at least five decades. 

Half-way through the meeting, he was glad he had accepted. For in spite of the questioning looks he had gotten when he had taken his chair and the pointed look Lord Kelan had given him before the man chose to completely ignore his presence there, the general realized exactly what the purpose of the meeting was, and his blood ran cold. What the King's chief advisor was aiming for was gaining support in favour of suspending the peace talks with Demonis, and preparing for another war in the immediate future. 

Of course, all of this was hidden behind veiled allusions, but that did not stop the general from growing annoyed, and then angry, at the old man's preposterous plans. Did he not see how the country was weakened, and how the people were just a few steps from revolting? Was he completely blind to the benefits of a long-lasting peace with Demonis? True, Marzio _was_ a little biased when it came to this subject, but the fact remained that the treaty Ignis had proposed was very, very advantageous for both lands. 

So he listened as Lord Kelan outlined 'the necessity of fighting Demonis' and 'Prince Sagni-Dor's vile plans' with his fists clenched underneath the table; and when he was done, he took a deep breath and exclaimed, "Under no circumstance must you proceed with such a plan." 

A deep silence enveloped the room, and heads turned towards him, some lords alarmed by this interruption. Even the king watched him with something akin to amazement; Lord Kelan alone seemed outraged. 

"General Zain-Reil, you are in no position to tell us what to do! Or is it true that you have become one of that wretched Demon's puppets?" 

"You have no idea what you are implying. But then again, I should not be surprised. Whatever I was thinking when I accepted command of the army is beyond me, right now. We were doomed from the beginning. And you cannot ask the people to start another war after this disaster." 

"A disaster you are responsible for, General," the king seemed to try and remind him, and everyone else. But it was far too late; for this argument between Marzio and Lord Kelan had been long in brewing. 

"No. A disaster _you_ are responsible for, Your Majesty. I have warned you, and I have warned Lord Loreh-Ven afterwards. We simply should not have ventured into unknown territory as carelessly as we did. And we had no chance to begin with - Prince Sagni-Dor was aware of our plans long before we crossed the Mauri. And that is certainly due to Lord Kelan's careless behaviour." 

"This is ridiculous!" 

"No, it is the truth. You must have known that the Prince had spies among our people - why did you brag about your 'carefully planned actions' to all?" 

Lord Kelan jumped from his chair and hit his fists on the table. "My friends, spies!? Why you...!" 

"Yes. _Spies_. And do you want to know how I found out? I'll tell you how. While you and your friends were busy looking down at me for socialising with the enemy, I befriended Prince Sagni-Dor. It may have made you angry, but that is of little importance to me. And do you want to know why? Because _he told me things._ Things that are not written anywhere and yet have great value. 

"You want another war with Demonis? That would be a great mistake. First of all, because no sane man that took part in this campaign is going to join the army. The people have seen the Demons fight, and they are most likely not going to want to fight against them again so soon. As a consequence, Your Majesty, ordering conscription might even cost you your throne. 

"And secondly, because another war would mean the ruin of Angelia. You all know about the treaty Prince Sagni-Dor has recently signed with the Lord Protector of Terlandia. What you do not know is about that treaty's secret annexes. Starting with the beginning of this year, if Demonis ever imposes a trade embargo against Angelia, Terlandia obliges itself to do so as well. Moreover, if requested by Prince Sagni-Dor in the case of an open conflict initiated by us, the Terans would attack our commercial vessels in exchange for trade monopoly with the Western Lands. Therefore, while the Demon Army will be busy tearing our country apart, the Teran navy would do the same with our fleet. And Prince Ignis Sagni-Dor, whom you all obviously regard as a wolf cub who has yet to show his teeth, would laugh at our stupidity and enjoy every bit of it - because in the end he would bring peace, even if he has to permanently destroy his enemy." 

The hall was silent when he stopped, and King Teh-Kai's face was white as chalk. "That... is not possible. We have copies of that agreement. Lord Kelan..." 

Marzio snorted. " _Lord Kelan_ only saw the copy kept in the archive. I, however, just happened to look at the one kept in the Prince's private study. It is a lot more accurate than the one his secretary has, and signed by Demonis' External Affairs Advisor and Terlandia's Minister of War, in addition to the others." 

"So the Prince of Demonis is preparing for a war against us?" one of the members of the Trade Council inquired. 

"No, merely covering all possibilities. As he himself said, he wishes for peace. And to be honest with you, he can afford the luxury to dictate any conditions he wants. But he also confessed to not wanting to destroy our country. Quite the contrary. He sees Angelians as his 'brothers'; a bit idealistic, true, but it could work in our favour. 

"And I believe he is honest in his request for peace; perhaps you should at least consider doing the same. The fact that he treated us so generously when we were his hostages was meant as a sign of good will on his behalf. Maybe we should return the favour." 

"Treated us generously? _You_ , perhaps. _We_ were always followed around by guards; _you_ were not! Moreover, you were the one following _him_ around like a puppy. What does that tell us about you, _General_ Zain-Reil?" 

'Oh, you mean besides the fact you are an idiot?' Marzio thought as he glared at the advisor. 

"I don't give a damn what it tells you about me. And if you think I was not closely watched, you are wrong - I was watched by the Prince himself, his servants, General Neri-Lokh, and every other Demon that set eyes on me. They thought me far more dangerous than you three, because _I_ was the one asking all those questions _you_ should have asked. As for the guards following you, they were for your own protection. Don't you think there were some Demons not very pleased with us not being thrown in the deepest, darkest dungeon of the Aquiline Prison?" 

He drew his breath, and carried on. "Yes, Prince Sagni-Dor did call me his friend. Yes, I did follow him around whenever he would allow it. Is that what is bothering you so? Or is it the fact I might have learned how to stand up and defend my own opinions instead of just listening to you carry on about 'what would be best'? 

"That is what this is truly about, isn't it? Me challenging your power. Well, let me tell you one last thing. I spoke with many of our people - commoners and nobles alike - and they are not happy about how this country is run. They will become restless if you do not allow them the time to heal. And they will also do whatever they consider necessary for their country's welfare - which, at this point, means peace with Demonis." 

There were hushed whispers and much movement of hands all around the room, but Marzio's eyes stayed where they had stopped, which was on the annoying King's advisor. He had struck a nerve there, and he knew it well. All the possible consequences for his actions swarmed through his mind, but his gaze did not falter. 

And seeing Lord Kelan pale as a sheet and struggling to remain on his feet was far too enjoyable, to tell the truth. Besides, the general had caught some of the councillors' whispers, and knew that some would see things his way, no matter what happened to him. A few of them may have been Kelan's pawns, but the others were not blind, and certainly not stupid. In the end they would see the truth, no matter what happened to Marzio. 

The Kelan smiled his wicked smile, and Marzio knew he was up to something. 

"You slept with him, didn't you?" the old man asked in a deceivingly sweet voice, and for a moment the general was glad he was still sitting down. But that moment passed, and it didn't matter anymore. Not the fact that admitting to it would doom him, or denying it and be called a liar. 

'In for one silver, in for one gold,' Marzio though. Whatever they did to him, it didn't matter - things could not get worse than telling the King of Angelia that he was an idiot, could they now. 

So Marzio answered the smile with one of his own and got up. "If I did, I do not see how it would be any of your business. Nor does it change anything. You are still an idiot, and so is anyone who listens to you. If you want to doom this country, then so be it - but afterwards, do not claim that you were not warned about the consequences of your actions. And I swear to you, this is the last time I'll even bother to save your sorry asses." 

And saluting the king, he walked out of the room as if nothing had happened. 

* * *

Marzio finished the second letter and signed it, then leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, waiting for the ink to dry before he put it in a blank envelope and sealed it. He could only hope for understanding from his family... and from that special someone. Because that would be the hardest thing - making Ignis understand why he couldn't come meet him as promised. Because even if the Prince of Demonis understood duty, this went a little beyond that; and the Demon had the tendency to take things as a broken promise seriously. 

A knock saved him from starting to mentally kick himself for his stupidity, and he rose to open the door. Ceni stood in the hall, a solemn yet resigned expression on his face, and still managing to look horrified. As did the two guards in the corridor, which were quite heavily armed and trying their best to hide their discomfort from the man they had sworn loyalty to. 

"Prison then," Marzio said, mostly to himself. "Would you like to come in?" he asked Ceni, and the younger man nodded vigorously. 

"So, what hole did they decide to throw me in, and for how long?" Marzio asked once his friend was in the room and he had closed the door. He surprised himself by sounding almost cheery, which was not at all suited to the occasion. 

"You are out of your mind," Ceni replied. "What the hell did you think you were doing in there, calling Kelan a liar in front of the king and councillors?" 

Marzio snickered. "Ah, so they did tell you what happened... very good. And were there any reactions? I mean, besides obviously declaring me a traitor." 

"Marzio, this isn't funny!" the lieutenant-colonel protested. "And they did not declare you a traitor; not yet, anyway." Marzio snickered again, making Ceni look ready to throttle him. "You should be grateful, you bastard! Princess Selena practically _begged_ her father to spare your life. Do you have any idea of the amount of trouble you're in?" 

"I have a perfectly good idea," Marzio replied. "But it does not matter, not any more. I did what I could to prevent the government from making a big mistake. And trust me, Ceni, it doesn't matter what happens to _me_. In the end, the only thing that matters is the welfare of our people. My fate is irrelevant, if the king and his councillors finally realize the true state of the country and do something to change it for the better." 

"Marzio!" 

"Someone had to open their eyes, Ceni." 

"Yes? And what about us? Doesn't our opinion matter at all? Doesn't your family's sorrow at losing you count? Or what your friends might feel? Did you ever think how I felt when they told me I had to place my best friend under arrest? How Selena felt when the king nearly ordered you executed?" 

Marzio smiled again, this time sadly. "It does matter, Ceni - only not as much. Because if they agree to Kelan's plans, then in the end all my friends will end up dead." 

"You chose a damn bad timing to show this zealous patriotism, Zain-Reil. And what about Prince Sagni-Dor? Don't tell me you didn't think about him while doing your little speech this morning." 

"I thought about him afterwards. I think he would be proud. Even if..." 

Even if they might never see each other again. Yes, Ignis would be proud. He would undoubtedly call Marzio an idiot, but he would still be proud. And if the general contributed to the red-haired prince's efforts for peace even with this little, then there was no need for him to feel sorry for himself, or worry about his fate. Because, after all, what use was happiness and love if one didn't have the possibility to indulge in it? And besides, his love for Ignis had been doomed from the beginning, and the prince would forget about Marzio in time. Surely he would. 

"So, where _are_ you taking me?" 

The younger man seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then his eyes shone dangerously. "There's a carriage waiting for you at the secondary entrance," he said quickly, keeping his voice low. "I can see you've already packed. Just hit me as hard as you can. I paid the two guards outside - they will let you pass. Get the hell out of here while you still can!" 

Marzio rolled his eyes. "This is a tempting offer, my friend, but one I cannot accept. I knew the consequences for my actions, and I am ready to pay the price. I refuse to destroy other people's lives. They would know you helped me, Ceni, and they would also blame the guards for my escape. Besides, where would I go? I cannot simply go back to Meralda, you know." 

"Then go to Demonis! Prince Sagni-Dor wouldn't think twice about allowing you to stay there." 

Marzio's heart sank. Flee to Demonis and ask for political asylum? No, he would not be turned down, but... "I will not cause Ignis any trouble either. He has his hands full as it is, he doesn't need me showing up on his doorstep with a courier carrying extradition orders a short distance behind. No, Ceni, it is time that I face the consequences of my action, whatever those are. I am, however, asking you for a favour." 

His friend looked most pained by his decision to stay, but he nodded anyway, so Marzio produced the two letters and gave them to him. 

"One is for my family, the other is for Ignis. They deserve to know what happened from me, not from others. But send them under your name so that they reach destination." 

Ceni's voice was getting suspiciously emotional. "I will do so." 

"Thank you. And now, I do believe it is time to go. Can I take a few things with me? Clothes, and some books perhaps?" 

"Of course. From what I heard your 'speech' was quite impressive, and it's won you the right to stay in one of the cells reserved for noblemen. In the Mnemon Prison, of course." 

"They're not taking any chances to allow me to escape, are they. How incredibly touching." 

* * *

One month later, Ceni Mah-Kel walked to his meeting with Owen Alisi-Feit in a downtown inn with a sudden feeling of dread. He hadn't sent Marzio's letter to Prince Sagni-Dor, preferring to deliver it himself once the Angelian delegation had reached Quiris. Marzio was still in prison, but his trial had been postponed until _after_ the final negotiations for the peace treaty between Angelia and Demonis. 

Which was not necessarily a bad thing, in Ceni's opinion. Still, there was no predicting Prince Sagni-Dor's reaction to that letter. The Demon ruler had seemed deeply disturbed during his first meeting with King Teh-Kai, and his eyes had kept straying through the crowd as if he were expecting something to happen. Or someone to show up. And the Angelian lieutenant-colonel had a very good idea exactly who the prince was looking for, in spite of knowing for a fact that Marzio was not there. 

Ceni had given Marzio's letter to the fist person he knew he could trust to deliver it - Owen Alisi-Feit. Incidentally, he was in charge of security for the duration of the peace talks, and so was the Prince of Demonis' Captain of the Guard. The letter had earned Ceni a strange look, but the captain had promised to deliver it. 

Two hours later, the request for this urgent meeting had arrived at the Angelian's quarters. And Ceni had a feeling this was not a good thing. 

Still, he had to admit that the Dreak knew how to choose a neutral location. The inn he had chosen was half-full this early in the evening, but it spotted a crowd of mixed backgrounds and the innkeeper was a middle-aged woman whose face inspired confidence. It did not strike him as a place where one would plan or carry out an ambush or assassination. 

He was directed to a smaller room in the back, which was supposedly reserved for guests who wanted to avoid the bustle of the common room. As expected, there _was_ a Demon waiting for him - but it was not Owen Alisi-Feit. Chills went through Ceni as the man, dressed in a guard's uniform, fixed him with burning eyes before motioning for him to close the door. 

"Sit down," he said and the Angelian complied. "I already know what happened, but I want to hear this from you as well. In detail." His voice was neutral, as was his stance, but the slight tightening of his lips and narrowing of those eyes indicated that this was an irrefutable order. 

So Ceni did tell him everything he knew about Marzio's arrest, and also about his rejected offer to help the general escape. He did not really know _why_ he did it - except for a recurring thought that this man could help Marzio in some way 

The Demon had in the mean time sat down opposite to Ceni, a crude wooden table providing the only distance between them; now he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Little fool," he whispered. "Brave, loyal, stubborn little fool." And there was no hiding the sadness in that voice, or the admiration. 

"You would have helped him, wouldn't you?" Ceni asked. 

The Prince of Demonis sighed. "Oh yes. And I still intend to, whether he wants it or not." He rose from the table and Ceni couldn't help but stiffen as he went around the table and stepped behind the Angelian, dangerously close. "But first, I have a question." The sweet voice that sang the words in the Angelian's ear was even more disconcerting than the sudden hold on his shoulders that held him pinned down. 

"Are _you_ willing to help him, Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel? Are you still his friend, or have you deserted him?" 

Khest! How could he ask such a thing? Of course he was still Marzio's friend! But did he want to help? That was the trick question... would he help his friend, or refuse to and lose the trust of such a powerful man. 

Because Ignis Sagni-Dor _was_ powerful, more powerful than many people imagined. And, in the short time he'd spent as a prisoner in a Demon war camp, Ceni had learned that the prince always kept his word. _Always_. He would certainly find a way to help Marzio even without Ceni's cooperation... 

"Not if it goes against my code of honour," he finally blurted out, causing a soft laughter in his ear as deceptively lean fingers eased their grip on his shoulders. 

"It does not. I only wish to send him a letter." 

"You are mad! That would be like killing him with your own hands." Ceni jerked up wanting to face the Demon fool, only to find himself forced down once more. 

"Quite so," the Prince crooned. "But I wasn't thinking about just any letter, and certainly not one signed by the Prince of Demonis. No, this would be a different kind of letter... a _very special_ kind of letter." He released Ceni and sat down again, tapping one finger on the table and appearing lost in thought for a moment, before smiling. The Angelian cringed again. That smile promised nothing good. 

He was quite right. 

"It has come to my attention today that General Zain-Reil's former personal servant has come to be in your employment." The smile turned into a grin. "Now, I am certain that the poor man, having been in his service for a few years now, misses his old employer. He misses him so terribly that he would ask you to add a little note to the message you will be sending your friend in three days. And you, being the kind and accommodating man that you are, will accept his request." 

'Damnation!' Ceni thought, not able to look away. 'Marzio was right about those spies. For how long did this little hellion have me followed?' 

Two fingers rapped on the table, and the Prince said in a cold voice, "You _will_ accept his request." 

"You do realize my career will be at stake if they find us out," he said quickly, trying to gain some more time to think. What the Prince was asking was definitely not legal. But he was also right - Ceni _was_ Marzio's friend. 

"I will need to read the note first, but if it's nothing suspicious I'll send it" he finally conceded. 

If possible, that grin turned in a most evil-looking smirk, and the Demon Prince stood up again, fetching a cloak that had been abandoned on the back of another chair nearby. 

"Quite harmless, Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel, quite harmless. Just something to let Marzio know I'll help him, and that when I see him next time I'll put him over my knees and spank him for being a tactless idiot. I'll have Owen deliver it tomorrow." 

And he simply walked out the door, leaving Ceni spluttering at the mental image of what he had just suggested.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Spending time in the Mnemon Prison as a "guest" rather than a visitor was not as bad as Marzio had imagined. Then again, his cell was at one of the upper levels, and in a wing reserved to prisoners of noble ranks, so he really didn't have much to complain about at first. True, the cell was smaller than his old room at the castle, and tiny if one compared it to the rooms he'd had at the Aquiline palace. But it had a small fireplace, a wardrobe, a table, comfortable chairs and bed, and even two shelves for his books. The window, though barred, was of relatively normal size, and he had a view of the city's noble quarters. And the food was good enough. 

But it was still a cell, and not being able to leave it except twice a week for an hour - when he got to make use of the bathing facilities - soon made him realize that, no matter how nice the cage, he was still a prisoner. Being a soldier for most of his life, he had always appreciated wide expanses of land, and most of all the freedom to travel and explore. After two weeks, even the thought of being stuck in that room made him want to pound at the door and scream to be let out. 

Not that he would actually do that. He still had his pride, after all; and he wouldn't give _anyone_ the satisfaction to see him beg to be released. They couldn't delay his trial too much, could they? 

His family was suitably outraged about the situation, especially his uncle - who had served under King Raresh's father and thus knew what distinguished a good monarch from a puppet and had sworn to come to Mnemon and pound Kelan's ass if necessary in order to have Marzio released. All this Marzio knew not from Derek Zain-Reil's letter - which had been quite scolding, to tell the truth - but from Ceni, who had thankfully come to visit every week and had kept him updated on what was happening at Court. 

Thus Marzio learned that his speech had not been in vain, and that the majority of the Council had been in favour of signing the peace treaty. Also, many people were suitably upset about Marzio's arrest, which was generally viewed as a suppression of a person's freedom of speech, a freedom that the Angelian nobility had always prided itself on. 

Not that, two days after his arrest, Marzio had not realized that he was mortified by what he had done. But he had been right, and he would not take his words back and give Kelan the satisfaction. No, he would wait until his trial and use the time he had until then, which was quite a lot with nothing to do all day long, to build a solid defence. 

It was on Ceni's third visit that he learned that said trial had been postponed, and that most of the Court would be moving to Quiris for the duration of the peace conference. Having had no word from Ignis - not that he expected to, because the risks of the Demon contacting him were very high - he could only dread the idea of spending at least two months in Mnemon when he would rather get to Quiris as soon as possible. 

And then something else happened, something that filled him with dread and made his imprisonment even harder to stomach. 

A few hours after Ceni had visited him to let him know he was leaving for Quiris the next morning, he had another visitor. It was not someone he had expected to come, namely because this _was_ a prison and _she_ was not allowed out of the castle without a guard. But there she was, Princess Selena Teh-Kai, looking around with wide blue eyes and finally telling him, while she kept glancing nervously at the door, that she had overheard something she was not supposed to know. That Kelan and some of the other lords, with the help of Lord Lavian Drak-Mer, high Priest of Demonis, were planning an assassination; and that the target was, predictably, none other than Ignis. 

He had trembled with rage then, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop this, no way to let Ignis know. And he had asked Selena to go to Ceni, and tell him this immediately. But it did not help. Selena and Ceni did not like each other, and she did not trust the younger man. And although she had promised to find a way to let Ignis know abut this, Marzio couldn't help wondering what would happen if she didn't, and if those bastards were successful, and Ignis did not find out, and... 

So many possibilities, and so little chances of warning the man he loved about this plot. As weeks passed, days filled with memories and nights with nightmares, Marzio started feeling more and more helpless, and useless. 

But when he had almost lost faith, one of the guards became the unknowing carrier of a little ray of hope. 

* * *

"Letter's here for you, general," the guard said, waving the envelope with a toothless grin. 

Marzio put down the book he had been reading and looked at him curiously. "From my family?" he demanded. 

"Nay, your friend." The envelope Marzio was given bore the seal of the Mah-Kel family. The general frowned - it had been opened and undoubtedly read before they gave it to him. It was not a practice he approved of, even if he was a prisoner. It also meant he was considered dangerous. 

He tried not to show his discontent as he pulled out two paper sheets. As he unfolded them, another one fell in his lap from between the two - a piece of cheap parchment, clumsily folded into an uneven square. He raised a brow and picked it up, not too sure what to make of it. 

Ceni's letter was carefully phrased, with allusions to things that could not be directly mentioned but which would have been expected from a friend. Apparently everyone was aware of Captain Mah-Kel's position regarding Marzio's arrest by now, and thus his letter had seemed harmless to whoever was responsible of supervising the prisoners' correspondence. It began, 

_My dear friend,_

_I write to you from the city-port of Quiris, my satisfaction of an uneventful trip thus far shadowed only by your most regretful absence. I am not the only one to feel this, as you may well know; alas, many of your acquaintances lament about the sad circumstances that keep you away in these important days._

_We have arrived a few days later than predicted, due to the poor state of the country roads this time of the year, but we found everything in good order. His Royal Majesty is safe at his temporary estate - a small castle really, owned by our regretted friend Tanis' family. Security had to be dealt with, but it was nothing beyond our efforts._

_The Demon delegation has arrived earlier than expected, shadowing us all with their elegance and pragmatic spirit. Though some of our delegates have not been too happy about it, Prince Sagni-Dor has insisted upon negotiations beginning immediately, not wanting to linger as is the usual tendency in these affairs. He has been rather enthusiastic about getting things on the move as soon as humanly possible, avoiding any public offence of course. At this pace, it will probably pass a little more than a month before the treaty is signed._

_His Highness has also publicly expressed his disapproval regarding your arrest the moment it was brought to his attention. Indeed, he has noticed your absence and, when His Royal Majesty informed him of the situation, he did not bother to hide his displeasure and has demanded your immediate release. They seem to be still debating the issue. Let me tell you that, if looks could kill, an_ illustrious _acquaintance of ours would regretfully not be with us any longer._

_At any rate, I take it upon myself to keep you informed of the ambience here and the course of things. I leave you now with a note from your trusty personal servant, whose services as you well know I am temporarily employing. He has_ insisted _on sending you this short message._

_Good bye, my friend, until fate rejoins us once more._

_Lt.-Col. Ceni Mah-Kel_

Marzio was a little puzzled at the last few lines. He did not remember his personal servant being particularly fond of him; and besides, the man could barely spell his own name. 

Putting aside his friend's letter, he stared at the folded note a little at a loss, the cheap parchment feeling rough under his fingers. 

Noticing his hesitation, the guard saw fit to intervene. "An educated man, this servant of yours. Has a fine hand too. A bit silly though - he goes on and on about birds and hounds. Me says you won't be too interested in that story." 

Marzio eyed the man suspiciously, wanting to tell him it was none of his business. Then he made up his mind to see what this was about. 

It was not at all what he had expected: elegant and frighteningly familiar handwriting, letters small yet highly legible, a lot of information filling such a small note. 

He stifled his laughter, praising the author for his astute mind. 'My servant indeed,' he smiled broadly, and set about reading the message eagerly. 

_Most-esteemed lord,_

_Although this new assignation has not been the prettiest thus far, and I sometimes have to fight a lack of understanding among the people I am forced to deal with, I take solace at the fact that your imprisonment will doubtlessly be a short one, and that I may finally return into your service. Captain Mah-Kel has proven very indulgent with me, and has agreed to send you my note along with his own letter to you._

_It is a rather large household here in Quiris, but I have been able to make a few friends among His Majesty King Teh-Kai's entourage. The only difficult task I have had to deal with lately is recover one of the hunting birds, who has stubbornly refused to let itself captured._

_This reminds me of a story the cook has told us yesterday. This Nobleman had captured a rare Phoenix bird and had imprisoned it, letting his hounds guard the cage. But just when all hope seemed lost, a fierce Dragon descended from the skies and set it free._

_Farewell, my lord. Rest assured of my undying loyalty; the moment you are free, I shall be the first to rejoice._

_Your willing servant to the death_

Forgetting where he was for a moment, Marzio clutched the parchment to his heart and flung himself down on the bed, laughing fiercely. Tale of dogs and birds, indeed! 

The guard cast him a weary look, not understanding the extent of the thing which had slipped through his fingers. "See sir, I told you - the fellow's a bit slow of mind." 

Marzio shrugged, suddenly in the best mood he had experienced since he had left Aquiline. He had known Ignis to be brilliant, but this note had been more than he had expected from his spunky lover. 

For the man's benefit, he said. "He's loyal and good at his job. He's like family." 

It was not a lie, but half-truth at most; the 'fellow' _was_ family. And he was anything but slow of mind. Anyone with a good knowledge of heraldry could have easily associated the words in capitals to their correspondents; had such a thought occurred to the prison's censor, the message would never have gotten through. 

As it was, he praised Seleh and Drako for the guard's stupidity, and chuckled lightly as the man finally went away, still shaking his head in disapproval. Left to his own devices, the general folded the piece of parchment neatly and slipped it inside his tunic, close to his heart. He took out the gold medallion and fingered the thin braid of red hair for the thousandth time. It had become some sort of ritual for him - only now he had the certainty that Ignis had not forgotten him. 

Closing his eyes he imagined himself back in the Prince of Demonis' bedroom, buried in cream silk, Ignis' weight familiar against him, warm lips pressed against his. If he tried hard enough, he could even feel the sweet scent of their lovemaking clinging in the air. 

It was then that he decided he _absolutely_ had to find a way to get word to the prince. Perhaps a short reply, though it would be a bit odd to answer a servant's note. But if he would have the certainty it would reach its destination, he would risk it. Now more than ever, he was determined to let his beloved know about the threats to his life. 

He sighed, chasing away the dark clouds that plagued his thoughts for a few hours; they would return promptly in the evening. Relaxing a little, he imagined himself returning Ignis' kiss fervently. 

* * *

He did not know whether what woke him up that night was the cold in his room or the feeling of someone watching him. But as he opened his eyes and stood up on the bed, hand reaching for his belt where his sword would have been, Marzio knew for sure something was _very wrong_. 

And it was, indeed. For there was someone else in there, a dark silhouette hiding in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. 

Marzio pushed away the covers and stood up, gathering his wings about him. Damn, but it was cold in there! And there had been no need to light a fire for two weeks now, spring arriving faster in Northern Angelia than it did everywhere else in the country. Then he turned to face whoever was in his cell. 

Had Kelan perhaps sent an assassin to kill him? Or had King Teh-Kai? Or maybe he was wrong and this was not an assassin at all. 

"Who are you?" he asked defiantly. "And _what in all hells_ are you doing here in the middle of the night?" 

Strangely, the shadows seemed to shift even as the person moved forward, stepping into the moonlight coming through the window long enough for Marzio to see the almost-too-thing body of a woman with long hair and piercing eyes. Then she shifted back into the shadows, her dress swishing on the floor. 

"I am the one in charge of making sure you fulfil your destiny." 

Her voice was cold and emotionless, at odds with the words she had spoken. The only features of her shadowed face that Marzio could see clearly were her eyes, of a glowing teal colour. 

'Not natural,' he caught himself thinking. 'No mortal being can have eyes like that.' 

" _What_ are you?" 

The creature laughed. "Ah, so you caught on fast... just as well. But what I am is not relevant either. The thing that matters is not what I am, but what I came here to do." 

Marzio took a step forward, drawn to this strange being in spite of himself. He watched her for a few moments, wondering if he was actually dreaming, and if he would wake up in the morning after yet another bad dream. 

But none of his previous nightmares had involved strange creatures like this one. In fact, in one way or another they had all involved Ignis and Marzio himself. And this seemed too... odd... to be a dream. 

"It is no dream," the creature answered his thoughts. "But it is not reality either. Right now, we are trapped somewhere in between real and imaginary, between dreaming and awake. This is the realm of angels and daimons; this is the limbo." 

"And why am _I_ here?" 

She stepped forward again, making him draw back involuntarily. He could now make out her face, which was smooth - too smooth - and yet made her look old; as did the white hair. The best way to describe her clothing was to say 'indescribable', not because they were awful or anything but rather because they did not leave any impression at all. What did _make_ an impression were the large wings, a motley black-and-white in colour. 

And her eyes, of course. The eyes that burned inside one's soul, a hundred times stronger than Ignis' eyes did. 

"You are here because Seleh desires you to be here. Because Drako desires you to be here. And because it is time to open your eyes and make you face your destiny." She did not leave him time for another question, or perhaps a dazed reply. "You are _here_ because you need to be here, and it is not for you to question the will of the gods!" 

'Khest! This _must_ be a dream!' Marzio had never been particularly religious, and the fact that he did believe in the divinities was mostly a reminiscence of his childhood, and his mother's teachings. 

"Look, I don't know what destiny you're talking about, but I'm sure you have the wrong man. I am not..." 

"Yes, you _are_. The right soul, inside the almost perfect shell. And you shall listen to me, if you want your dear Prince of Demonis to live." 

'Oh shit!' 

She smiled, but it was a cold smile. "I was sent to make a bargain with you. I have the power to let you out of this prison, and to offer you the means to reach Quiris before it is too late to save him. But there is a price for all this... a price you may not be willing to pay." 

"What if I do?" 

"Then you get to save the one you love, the treaty will be signed, and there will be a long-lasting peace between Angelia and Demonis." 

"And if I don't?" 

"Then he dies, you die, and there will be a great war which will destroy both your people." 

The general stared at her wide-eyed, not knowing if to believe her or not. "And there is no middle way, no other solution?" 

"Not this time, Angelian. The Demon made his choice a long time ago; now it is time for you to make yours." 

"But why does it have to be me? Can't anyone else save him? Why don't you tell him..." 

She pointed a glossy finger at him and he found himself silenced. "You ask too many questions," she said. "So many questions, for such a simple decision. But I shall answer this one, I believe. Your destinies are linked. One's actions influence the other in more ways than a mortal mind can possibly comprehend. He already walks the path, but you are at a crossroad. If you accept, then your paths shall meet again and he shall be saved. If you do not, then your paths shall separate, and you shall never see him again." 

And which path could he possibly choose? Which path, when all he could think about was how to save Ignis' life? Which path, when he had just thrown away his freedom in order to chase someone else's dream of peace? 

"Name your price," Marzio stated, meeting her eyes. "Whatever it is, I shall pay it." 

"There is no turning back," she warned. 

" _Name your price_!" 

He stood still, like hypnotized, as she circled around him, smiling. He felt her hands on his wings, spreading them and caressing the soft feathers. He could not help but shiver at her touch, waiting for a word, a sign. What did she want from him? 

There was a sudden flash of pain so intense that his vision went red, and the sensation of falling. 

And then there was darkness. 

* * *

When he woke up, he could feel fresh grass underneath him. He was sprawled on his stomach, head resting on his arms, and he knew for sure he was no longer confined between four walls. Nor was he capable of telling how he had gotten there, or what had happened after he had fainted. 

He struggled to sit up and look around him. It was around noon, and he was in a clearing not too far away from Mnemon. A clearing he knew well, for he had come here on countless occasions. His horse was tethered nearby, already saddled, and his weapons lay a few feet away, as did a few bags he recognized as belonging to him as well. Food bag, clothing bag, water skin. A thick cloak good for travelling in early spring. 

How had they gotten there? And how had _he_ gotten there? He had no idea, but he would not linger to find out either. He had to leave for Quiris immediately. 

It was only when he struggled to sit up, his balance severely impaired, that he found out what price he had paid for his freedom. When he fought for every step, like he had forgotten how his body worked. And then he knew why he would get to Quiris unobserved, why he would not attract any Angelian guard's attention. 

For all the others would see now was a man on a horse hurrying down the road, and they would pay no attention. 

Because the only living being Angelians chose to completely ignore was a person without wings.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"I swear, the man is more stubborn that an ox." Ignis threw up his arms and let himself fall on the couch. "No, scrap that. To compare Kelan Loreh-Ven to an ox would be an insult to the animal. Who in all heavens has ever heard of 'taxes for intellectual export'?" 

"Kelan did, apparently," Owen snickered. "What _is_ this 'intellectual export', by the way?" 

"The migration of intellectuals from one country to another. It seems that the Angelians fear of losing their brightest scholars once the borders are opened. Not that their new emigration fees are anywhere near affordable for most people." Tempesta grunted, pouring herself a glass of wine. "Apparently _someone_ tipped off their scholars about the kind of manuscripts that can be found in the Aquiline library, and by now half of them have applied for emigration and another quarter for extended stay permits." 

"That was Roland Bela-Fer and Tanis' fault, _not_ Marzio's," Ignis interceded. 

"Ah. And speaking of our dear general, how far along are you with getting him released?" 

Ignis gave Owen a pained look. "Quite far, I think. If I could have spoken privately with the king sooner, Marzio would already be here. But Lord Kelan..." He closed his eyes and sighed. 

"We know, we know... The man has been a thorn in your side ever since you two first laid eyes on each other. You know, we _could_ have gotten rid of him and make it look like an accident while he was still our prisoner." The Supreme Commander of Demonis shook her head and sipped at her wine. "We still can." 

Ignis groaned. "Not that I don't find it an excellent idea, but we really don't want to delay negotiations any further. We are _this_ close to signing the treaty. Less then a week... and in the mean time, I'm sure we can come up with a plan to get Kelan out of the way without having to kill him." 

Kheerah came into the room with a tray of appetizers; Owen and Tempesta helped themselves to some, not having eaten since that morning. Ignis, however, was by now sick of food - too many business meetings over meals did that to a man, and he'd just had lunch with a member of the Angelian Trade Council. He spared Kheerah a smile, though. He was a very nice, thoughtful boy, and very good at keeping the things he happened to overhear while attending to Ignis' needs to himself. 

Presently, the boy fumbled in his pockets for something. "Milord, one of the servants found this in the foyer. He thought you might have accidentally dropped it." He produced a medallion and offered it to the prince and then retreated at a proper distance, giving Ignis time to study the piece of jewellery. 

Ignis' hand tightened onto the locket; it was painfully familiar. In fact, there was no way it could have gotten there, unless... 

"Kheerah, who was here today?" 

"Milord?" the boy asked, his head jerking into the prince's direction at the cold tone of voice. 

"Who was here today, while I was at the City Hall?" 

"I do not know, sire. I was in town until this afternoon." 

"Then find out for me. Now." 

While Kheerah left to inquire about any visitor the prince might have had, Ignis returned to his study of the locket. He did not doubt whom it belonged to - it was one of a kind, custom-made. But how exactly had it reached Quiris, if Marzio was imprisoned in Mnemon? 

"What's so special about a medallion?" Owen asked, not aware of its meaning. 

"I gave this to Marzio when he left. It simply _shouldn't_ be here, and I don't think I like any of the possible explanations for its sudden appearance." 

Kheerah returned accompanied by one of the guards who had been on duty that morning. At Ignis' question, the woman replied, "Yes my Lord Prince, there was a man here around noon; a Teran asking to speak with General Neri-Lokh. Lord Lavian received him." 

"Lord Lavian, you say? And where is this man now?" Tempesta inquired. "Because I didn't see him." 

"General, I do not know. But..." The woman seemed to consider something. "Lord Lavian left in his carriage soon after, and I do not think he was alone." 

"He wasn't!" Kheerah jumped in. "The driver picked him up right in front of the stairs, and one of the maids thought she saw one of his bodyguards carrying a body." 

"Tell me, Lynn," Ignis told the woman, "this Teran didn't by any chance happen to be carrying a message from Angelia, did he?" 

"I am sorry, but he did not say. Still... if I may be forgiven, he looked suspiciously familiar, in spite of the hooded cloak he wore. I could swear I saw him before, but I don't know where." 

Under his friends' eyes, Ignis turned white. A flash of memory from her had been enough to confirm his suspicions. He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of his chair taking a deep breath, while his hand tightened on the gold locket. 

'Marzio... here...' It was a foolish thought, and yet... was it possible that they had released him? That he had found a way to come, after all? Hope died last, it was said. But how could he been mistaken for a Teran? After all, the people of Terlandia had no wings! 

Another thought crept into him; had King Teh-Kai found a way to rid himself of the general once and for all, by discrediting him in the eyes of all his subjects? But to declare Marzio a traitor meant going a bit too far, even for the foolish Angelian king. 

However, right now Ignis had to find his lover - or the man that looked like him, in any case. His heart told him it _was_ Marzio, and his mind tended to follow his instincts. The question was, where had Lavian taken him? 

"Did the High Priest take his carriage now as well, or is his coachman still here?" 

"He just came back as we came here," the lieutenant answered. 

"Very good, Lynn. Now if you would be so kind as to fetch me that coachman..." 

Ten minutes later, an elderly Demon was escorted in by two guards, and Ignis did not even wait for him to kneel before he inquired about Lavian Drak-Mer's latest carriage ride. The man, fidgeting under his monarch's fiery eyes, revealed that the High Priest had gone to the Temple of Drako, and had remained there with his bodyguard. 

It was all that Ignis wanted to know. Placing the coachman under the guards' care until further orders, he ordered Owen to make sure no one left the villa that evening before he returned. Taking Tempesta and the first three Dreak he could find, he left for the temple in his own coach. 

The building seemed quiet from outside, but as he went up the stairs Lavian's bodyguard appeared in the doorway, blocking his path. The man did not stand a chance in front of a determined prince, however, and his unconscious body was left in Tempesta's care. Two of the warriors he had brought with were posted throughout the temple, and one was sent to make sure none of the priests, priestesses and acolytes that lived in the adjoining building showed up to ruin Ignis' impromptu descent into the most secret of the temple's rooms: the underground cells. 

As Ignis descended the narrow staircase, Master Keefer's lessons on stealth came back to him. Unlike most Dreak warriors, _his_ lessons at the Monastery had included some very unorthodox training. Not that his father would have been very happy had he found out about it, but Ignis had insisted. After all, what better way to thwart an attempt on one's life than to anticipate the assassin's moves? And Ignis had been good at it - almost as good as Keefer himself had been in his youth. 

The dark corridors proved ideal for going about unnoticed, and Ignis paid great attention to his steps. He didn't want to let Lavian know he was coming, perhaps even catch the High Priest with his guard down this time. And if the damned man had dared harm one hair on Marzio's body... 

Light and a low voice coming from one of the cells ahead had him tread more careful, pulling the hood of his mantle even lower to hide his face. No, Lavian would not know he was there until it was too late. 

"... and I won't allow you to jeopardize my plan. I don't know how you could possibly find out about this, but you picked the wrong person to mess with." 

It was Lavian, no doubt about it. Thankful that the door was half open, Ignis dared sneak a look into the narrow underground cell. He couldn't make out much because the High Priest stood just in front of him, the light of a single torch hanging on the wall next to the door falling on his back. But it took no great genius to interpret the rustling of chains that came from beyond. 

"Ignis will know." 

Just three words, carrying a final resolution. And yes, it was Marzio's voice that spoke them, making Ignis cringe on the other side of the door. 

Lavian's wicked laughter echoed in the cell. "Will he, now? He will be dead before he realizes what is going on!" The few instants of utter silence that followed gave his words a whole world of meanings. "You see, my plan is perfect. And with him out of the way, who will be mad enough to stop me?" 

"You will give yourself away," Marzio's voice answered. "Do you think nobody will realize there was a traitor among your people? General Neri-Lokh is not stupid. If something happens to the prince, she will start an investigation. And she will kill you for harming Ignis." 

Lavian's robed figure shifted, and Ignis pulled back a little fearing the priest might have noticed him. He hadn't; instead Lavian leaned forward and his hand shot out. The prince noticed familiar blond hair as the prisoner's head was being forced up, and he instantly reached for his dagger. There was _no way_ Lavian would harm Marzio if Ignis could prevent it! 

"She will not. You see, I made sure all clues will point to Lord Loreh-Ven. Even she will not be able to deny it was your people that poisoned the prince. And with him dead, I will make sure Demonis declares war against Angelia, to punish you for such a horrendous crime. Your country doesn't stand a chance in front of our troops, Zain-Reil! Driven by the desire to avenge their dear sovereign, our army will wipe out everything in its path. Angelia will lie in ruin at Demonis' feet!" 

Ignis could practically feel Marzio flinch, perhaps because he himself did. He had tolerated the High Priest's crazy ideas so far, but Lavian was truly mad! Only a sick mind would plan the destruction of so many innocent lives. Everything Ignis had fought hard for would have been rendered useless if Lavian went through with his plan. No, he had to be stopped! 

The dagger's sharp blade came out of its sheath just as soundlessly as Ignis had moved. The prince's hand tightened on the familiar shape of the handle. Wings wrapped around a human shape; the weapon was meant to protect the life of the one carrying it. This time, it would protect not only Ignis' life, but his loved one's as well. 

Lavian, on the other hand, wouldn't be that lucky. 

The Demon stepped through the door and into the cell, advancing one quiet step at the time, his body and his mind wrapped in darkness. 

The High Priest let go of Marzio and produced a tiny flask from the folds of his ample robe. "Belladonna. Mixed with any food or drink, this extract is lethal. A fever at first; then serious metabolism disorders. He will die a slow, painful death. And I will be damned if I won't enjoy any single moment of his suffering. He will pay for underestimating my hatred. I will kill this hell spawn that has made my life miserable for the past five years. He should have died three years ago, not his pretty captain. I won't fail again. Drako is with me this time! And I promise you this, Angelian: you will follow him soon." 

Lavian began laughing again, but he stopped abruptly and his speech died in his mouth as he felt something moving behind him just before a cold, sharp blade went through his heart. The poison flask dropped on the stone floor and broke as Prince Sagni-Dor's voice spoke deadly in his ear, "It looks like Drako wishes you to _fail_. And honestly, I don't think I will miss you much." 

Ignis turned the knife so it would cut harder, deeper. His eyes stopped past the priest: Marzio, wingless and chained up against the wall, head hanging low as he sobbed. 

Ignis pulled out the weapon and lowered the body on the floor. The blade was red with the High Priest's blood and he wiped it clean on the now dead man's robe, sparing a thought for the sins he had confessed to. Drako, how many lives had Lavian had on his conscience?! Rasya... Marzio, almost! He wished he could pity the lord, but he didn't. 

He searched the body quickly, hoping to find the key to Marzio's shackles. It seemed a fruitless effort at first, but he finally found it hanging on a chain from the priest's belt. He retrieved it and hastily stood up; he had to take care of Marzio now. 

The general seemed oblivious to what was happening in the cell, even as Ignis reached out to free him from the restraints. His right arm dropped lifelessly at his side and Ignis thanked the gods he had had enough presence of mind to support his lover lest he should fall. Marzio's body was limp against the prince's own as he struggled with the other cuff, finally managing to undo it. He lowered Marzio and propped his back against the cold wall, lifting his face to find dead eyes looking through him. Fearing the worst, he searched for a pulse, and was grateful when he found it. 

"Marzio," he whispered softly, "can you hear me?" 

The green eyes blinked and seemed to focus, and cracked lips moved. "Ignis... danger..." It was all the Angelian could utter before his eyes closed. The prince pulled him forward, feeling faint breathing against his face as he tried to cross Marzio's arms around his neck. 

It took him four tries to do it right. Then Ignis put one arm under his lover's knees and lifted him up. Tempesta was waiting upstairs, and he couldn't leave Marzio in there with Lavian's corpse for company. The Angelian was lighter than he had expected, but he did not look entirely healthy either. He just hoped it was nothing a healer couldn't handle. 

Except for the missing wings... nobody could replace such a loss. 

* * *

Marzio woke up to the smell of orange blooms thick in the air. He was lying on his back, gazing at a canopy embroidered with tiny beads that reflected the dim light in the room, and he could feel soft sheets on his body and a fluffy pillow under his head. There were other clues showing he was finally out of the filthy dungeon, like the fact he was no longer shackled nor was he restrained in any way. 

He tried turning on his side, only to discover an unfamiliar weight pressed against his chest prevented him from moving. But just as he lifted his head to see what it was, it shifted and the Angelian found himself staring into claret eyes that blinked sleepily, lost in a familiar mass of red hair. 

Next thing he knew, he was being pulled off the bed and into a warm embrace, his face burying in cool silk as a hand tangled in his hair and another sneaked around his waist. He guessed more than heard a relieved sign, and indiscernible words were murmured in his ear. 

After the initial shock, Marzio allowed his hands to stray and circle Ignis' body. The warmth, the smells and the textures against his skin told him he was not dreaming, not at all. Ignis was there, a reassuring presence he could hang onto for support, although how the Prince of Demonis had managed to find him was yet to be revealed. An immense sense of relief overcame him, and with it the thought he had made it after all. 

Marzio pulled away slowly, eyes downcast, not knowing what reaction to expect from the prince. "Do you still think of me handsome now that I am starved and covered with scars?" he managed, his voice hoarse from lack of use. 

But as he raised his head he found a genuine smile playing across thinned lips, and deep eyes looked at him filled with worry and so much love it nearly threw him back. His heart sank, realizing those eyes mirrored his own feelings, and that there was none of the rejection he had so dreaded. And then Ignis kissed him, and the world swirled around them once more in the light of morning, and it was not that different from what it had been like between them several months back. 

The Demon broke the kiss and laid Marzio back on the bed, stretching himself next to him and pushing a few wavy strands away from Marzio's face. The golden hair was longer than he remembered, and not exactly clean, but it still caught the eye. 

"I think you are the most handsome man in these godsforsaken lands," he replied, smiling down at the Angelian once more. "But I should still kick your sorry ass for having me so worried when you passed out." 

"How long?" 

"Only a couple of hours. Zehi says you're going to be all right, given a few weeks' worth of rest and several good meals a day. Still, you have a lot of explaining to do." 

The Angelian nodded, wondering how exactly he was going to tell Ignis about everything, especially about the old woman and the deal he had made; not to mention he had no proof of the accusations he was going to make against his own countrymen, which sounded exactly like what they were - treason. "Does anyone else know I'm here?" he asked quickly, wanting to find out how much time he had before being handed back to his own people. 

"A few persons I trust - none of your own people, though. I thought it best, considering..." A deep breath, and then, "Get some more rest. We can talk later. About _everything_." He made to get up, but Marzio caught his forearm and held onto it with dubious strength. 

"Could you stay a bit longer? After two months spent in prison and a week on the road, I find your presence very comforting." He knew that keeping Ignis there was really selfish of him, but the Demon prince still had no idea of the plot against him. 

Ignis nodded. "I was only going to order some food. Just stay put and I'll be back shortly, I promise." He removed Marzio's hand from his arm gently. "I won't leave your side, my love, at least not until we have a proper chance to talk. You have my word on that." 

Lying back down and watching Ignis leave through an ornate door, Marzio considered his alternatives carefully. Should he manage to persuade Ignis his story was real - which he honestly doubted, for it really seemed more fantasy than reality - things would be quite easy to handle from that point on. And the best way of doing that was by telling the truth, and hope the prince would not burst out laughing and declare him a raving lunatic. 

He was hungry though, and when Ignis returned carrying a tray of steaming food his stomach rumbled. Ignis chuckled and advised to start with the soup, and not to drink it down too fast. While Marzio busied himself with that, he cut the steak into small pieces and when Marzio put down the empty bowl he fed him the meat himself, making small pauses between bites. Very little was spoken, both men trying to gather their thoughts and tighten their resolve for what would come. 

Then Ignis took the empty dishes away and returned to lie down next to Marzio, leaning against the headboard and allowing the now sated Angelian to lean against him. "Would you rather talk about it now, or wait for Tempesta and Owen to return? I don't want to put you through any unnecessary pain, and I have the feeling that this particularly story has a lot of that in it. So perhaps I should tell you what happened here first." 

"I got your note. It told me pretty much everything about what was happening here at the time. I still can't believe you pressured King Teh-Kai to release me, though. That must have been odd for him." 

Ignis' eyes darkened, as they always did when he discussed something serious or when he was angry with someone. "Your friend Ceni Mah-Kel told me what happened in Council. It struck me as very unfair to arrest you for simply expressing your opinion. Besides, I was not about to let you rot in a cell while Kelan was enjoying freedom after having destroyed hundreds of lives." 

"Oh, I believe my execution would have come in due time," Marzio replied smugly. "Of course, that was before I broke out of prison and came here... By the way, how _did_ you find me last night? Lavian said nobody would know where I was." 

Ignis retrieved something from the nightstand and showed it to him. It was the golden medallion he had dropped on the floor when Lavian's bully had struck him from behind. "Kheerah found this in the foyer and thought I had accidentally misplaced it. This, and strange images of you chained to a wall that kept appearing in Lavian's mind. I simply took my cue and followed him to the temple dungeons." He refastened the gold chain around Marzio's neck, and caressed the Angelian's shoulder lovingly. 

Marzio was a bit puzzled by some of the words. "In Lavian's mind? So you can truly read people's thoughts? Well, to tell you the truth, nothing much fazes me at this point. What happened to Lavian, anyway? Shouldn't he be around here somewhere, giving you a hard time?" 

Ignis snorted. "Lavian is dead; I killed him last night. One less traitor to deal with; I heard most of what he told you, so it was just as well I did it myself - he couldn't have escaped trial this time. You knew that he was going to poison me, didn't you?" 

"Yes," Marzio confessed. "I came here to warn you. Selena said she was afraid to tell Ceni so he could warn you, and there was no other way to let you know about except telling you myself. I was about to answer your note, but... something happened..." 

Ignis' arms closed around him, the prince's touch light as a feather. "And you will tell me all about it, and then... then we will do some scheming of our own. I am not going to treat this lightly. I do not like it when the ones I care for are hurt and their life is being threatened. It has to end, and I want someone's head!" 

It was scary to see Ignis so determined. Yet his hold never tightened, his body did not tense, only his voice carried signs of internal turmoil. Marzio knew it was just a matter of time until he would make his threat real, and then Seleh save whomever opposed his will. 

But the Angelian also felt a bit slighted. Never before had Ignis seemed so distant, in spite of being so close. Marzio even wondered if the Demon's mind was there with him, or somewhere else planning his revenge. But he could not complain, could he? He had gotten his wish - to be in Ignis' arms for one last time before he gave up his old life and tried to make it on his own. He had a vague feeling Ignis was not going to let him go easily, though Marzio had to leave for both their sakes. But he still had time to enjoy this, just a bit longer until things settled down and everything returned to a normal path. 

"Does it still hurt?" Ignis whispered suddenly, running a hand over the area where Marzio's wings had once been attached to his back. 

Marzio shook his head. "No. Not physically, at least. It was the price I had to pay for my freedom." 

Ignis' hold did tighten then, and Marzio was drawn closer to him. "Tanis once told me what this means in your land. I understand this must have been a hard decision for you." 

"Let's not speak about it now. Both our peoples' destinies are laid out before you. There really was no choice, not in the long run."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Having to lean on someone for support while walking was something Marzio was not entirely comfortable with, but Ignis considered he was still too weak to manage on his own. The worse had been when Marzio had to make use of the privy, which was located down the hall from the suite the prince currently occupied; but it had been amazing how quickly Ignis' guards had cleared the corridor from any unwanted witness - including themselves, as well as prying servants and other Demon delegates. 

Ignis was currently staying at a private villa located right outside Quiris, which judging by the amount of people that had moved in had become a miniature copy of the palace in Aquiline. However, also this meant that the prince had the luxury of a private bathing room which Marzio made good use of that afternoon. He was also provided with clean indoor clothing, including a thick robe which kept away the chill that took hold of the Angelian's body at times. And, most importantly, he got to share Ignis' living quarters. What more could he ask for? 

His mood changed with the arrival of Tempesta Neri-Lokh and Owen Alisi-Feit. Apparently, Ignis had ordered his Supreme Commander to take over the negotiations that day, for he had been 'indisposed'. How he had managed to get away with it was, for the time-being, a mystery. 

Steeling himself for what would come, Marzio allowed Ignis to lead him into the small receiving room outside his bedroom. The guards had been given specific orders not to let anyone in all evening, so it was just the four of them. 

'At least I won't make a fool out of myself in front of people I never met,' Marzio reasoned, not missing the glance Tempesta and Owen exchanged when he entered the room, leaning on Ignis as he was directed to a couch in front of the fireplace, opposite to the one that the two Dreak were currently occupying. 'And I will be physically comfortable, if nothing else.' 

The Demons were silent as he recounted his story, from the way in which he had defied Kelan in Council to his brief detention in Lavian's hands, trying his best not to leave out any detail that might prove of importance. 

After he finished, he room was wrapped in silence. Ignis seemed deep in thought and Tempesta kept shooting questioning glances at both of them. Owen apparently did not know what to believe, but by the look in his eyes he probably considered Marzio crazy - which was not that different from the reactions Marzio had anticipated. 

Then Ignis snapped out of it and turned to his lover, touching his cheek and smiling gently. "I am sorry," he said. "I should have anticipated at least part of what happened. And I should have warned you about _her_." 

"You... you know that woman?" Marzio asked, still not quite sure what to make of the fact that Ignis apparently believed him. 

"Pale skin, long white hair, teal eyes, voice sounding like it's coming from inside a tomb... She is not really a woman, you see. She is... how can I explain this? In Demonis, we call her the Sorceress. She is a high-ranking daimon, and there are some people who occasionally dream of her. It is said that she brings the guidance of Drako to his chosen servants, called 'the Luminate'." 

"Yes, _it is said_." Owen's sarcasm was quite obvious. "Of course, there is a difference between fairytales and reality..." 

"A difference that is not as great as it seems," Tempesta cut in. "Of course, there are still many things you have to explain to us, Ignis. Like the matter of a certain prophecy?" 

Ignis shook his head. "Not now. There are other, more important things that we need to decide upon tonight. If Lavian and Kelan really were working together, then we need to find a way to keep the information about the High Priest's untimely death from leaking, and at the same time find a way to ensure we haven't spent all this time on peace talks that will have no finality." 

One had to hand it to him, the prince really knew how to turn a discussion away from topics he was obviously uncomfortable with. And it was plain that everyone in that room had noticed that. It was clear that Tempesta really wanted her answers, and by now Owen probably had a few of his own, even if he did look at the three of them like they were quite insane. Marzio himself had a few questions for his secretive lover. 

"The way I see it," Marzio began, "Kelan would have avoided contacting Lavian unless it became absolutely necessary. He may be a pain in the ass, but he's not stupid. According to Lavian's words before he found himself at the pointed end of your dagger, a position I do not envy him," he winked at the prince, who winked back, "he was supposed to poison you during the weekend before the treaty was signed. How many days are left until then?" 

The three Demons looked at each other and blinked. "Two days from now." 

Suddenly, Marzio found himself swept in an enthusiastic hug. " _You_ are a _genius_!" Ignis declared, kissing him soundly. Deciding it was not worth letting go, he let Marzio rest in his embrace; which was just fine with the Angelian, as he had started feeling tired again. "There are no official meetings scheduled for the next two days, and if I keep well out of sight there is no reason for Kelan to suspect something has gone wrong. 

"I can cancel all of your appointments," Tempesta suggested. "Or I can go in your place, whichever suits you best." 

Ignis considered this. "I have no important meetings tomorrow, but I am supposed to see the mayor and some merchants' representatives from Tulse the second day. Cancel everything except that one. If anyone asks, I am feeling 'indisposed'; they can interpret that any way they like. 

"We also need to know exactly where the Angelians stand regarding the treaty. Not the Councils, but the rest of them. Owen, I want you to get in touch with Ceni Mah-Kel first thing tomorrow morning. Schedule another 'dinner meeting' for the evening after. He'll probably be able to provide some information our regular channels may not find out in time. 

"We'll hold our planning sessions here, for lack of a better space. Marzio, don't get any strange ideas: you are in on this." 

"Hmm?" Marzio said, opening his eyes; he had nearly fallen asleep in Ignis' arms. He was so tired... 

"Alright, time for you to get some sleep," Ignis decided. "Tomorrow should be a busy day." He dismissed his friends, then he helped Marzio on his feet and directed him toward the bedroom. 

* * *

The following day was spent going over different ways off approaching the matter. Finally everyone agreed that a lot depended on whether the Angelians approved of the peace treaty or not - Marzio believe that most of them did, but Tempesta had decided that they needed solid proof - and on keeping Kelan and his cronies in the dark for as long as possible. The chaotic day ended with a trip to the tailor, everyone acting exhausted over dinner, and going to bed early. 

Compared to that the following morning was uneventful, with breakfast a quiet affair after which Ignis and Marzio chose to retire back to the prince's bedroom to keep up with appearances. 

The prince told him exactly who the Sorceress was supposed to be, and everything that was known about her. Marzio became lost in the tales, Demon mythology proving to be a fascinating subject. Ignis would not say much about the prophecy, however, which made the Angelian very suspicious because Tempesta had mentioned it and also because there was obviously something she knew that Marzio did not and that Ignis didn't want anyone to find out. 

Still, that did not account for the sudden pause in conversation during which Ignis studied Marzio quite intensely, then turned his attention to his own hands as if they were something fascinating. All in all, he had the air of a man who wanted to say something but did not know if he should; which did not fit the Demon's personality at all. 

Finally, Marzio gave in and sighed deeply. "You might as well say whatever is on your mind. I can see that it troubles you." 

The prince looked up and smiled shyly. "I have a question, but I do not know if this is the proper time for it." 

Marzio laughed. "Ignis, if there is one thing I learned in the past few months, that's that there is no time like the present. Just ask." 

"Well... Marzio, please stop chuckling, this is quite serious. I know we have tried to live in the moment and never quite talked about the future, but I was wondering if - after things settle down of course - you would consider coming back to Aquiline with me and do me the honour of becoming my consort." 

It took Marzio a few good minutes to recover from the shock of Ignis' words. A few minutes for their true meaning to sink in, for him to realize the whole suite of implications that would follow. At first, he thought the prince had not truly meant it, that it was just something to make his lover feel more comfortable with the whole situation. But no, Ignis had meant every single word - one look at him sufficed to bring forth the cruel confirmation; and Marzio felt awful about it, because he knew he would have to give an answer on the spot. And he did not wish to be a burden, or to turn Ignis' life into a nightmare. No, he certainly couldn't do that. 

He sighed deeply as he looked at the Demon again; Ignis was carefully posed and ready to intervene at any sign of weakness that Marzio might give. Ready to confront another fit of hysteria, or offer him anything he might ask for. 

At the moment, the Angelian wished Ignis he weren't dealing with this deeply-concerned lover, but the strong and authoritarian Prince of Demonis. He was aware they were one and the same - but he also knew that Ignis would not even dream about ordering him around as if he were just another person to deal with. And that was precisely the hard part. 

Marzio closed his eyes for a moment and gathered his thoughts. He would have to be strong now, and not let his emotions get hold of him. He would have to go against his heart and speak a truth that was in fact a lie, a great lie he had devised to keep himself from further emotional turmoil. It was resignation, and the fact that not even Ignis could change the past, that Marzio had made his choice and that, perhaps in time, both of them would understand the true depth of that sacrifice. 

"I cannot," he told his lover. "You know I cannot accept what you offer." 

Ignis just stared at him. Marzio expected now his acceptance, the kind words of reassurance that always came... 

"You can't be serious!" the prince blunted, bedazzled at the refusal. "Marzio, if you truly love me..." 

"It is _because_ I love you. My prince, try and understand. I was raised to believe in honour and devotion." His voice caught and he forced himself to continue. "All these things are lost to me now. I have betrayed my country, and given up my honour. I am no longer the man I was when we first met; I am not General Zain-Reil anymore. I am nothing now. _Nothing_. I no longer have a name, a home, a place in the world. I knew this was the price I would have to pay for my decision, and I accepted it then as I accept it now. 

"But you, _you_ have everything you had before, and more. The treaty is almost signed. Kelan's conspiracy will be thwarted. You will bring peace to our lands, and your people will love you even more for it. You will _be_ that legendary prince, with or without his companion. 

"And there is no place for me in all of this. I have no place by your side. The Angelian traitor." He snorted, disgusted he would use such words to speak of himself in front of the one he loved and respected above all. "What would your people say if I were to become your Consort? They would call you mad. A wingless Angelian! Ignis, they would undoubtedly overthrow you and choose another ruler. One that would never share his power with a worthless cast-out!" 

Marzio's laughter was grim and ironical. No, Ignis could not be allowed to do that mistake. Ignis could not throw away all he had accomplished so far. 

All the time, he watched the Demon's eyes widen in astonishment, then probably utter disbelief. Then, when Marzio spoke no more, and when he had digested all of it enough, Ignis stood in front of him, his eyes severe. No longer the lover, but the Dreak. No longer compassionate, but determined. Had he realized the truth, then? Had he believed what Marzio had forced himself to accept as reality? 

"Is this what you think?" the prince demanded. There was an edge to his voice that Marzio had not heard in almost half a year. "That you are worthless now? That you should mean nothing to me, after all you have done for me?" 

"I have _not_ done _anything_. You know that is true." 

"I know nothing of the sort." The voice was gentler again, persuasive. "What I _do_ know is that you were willing to risk everything pursuing something that might have been a false lead. That you have come here to warn me, ignorant to what that meant in terms of your own safety. You have risked your life to save mine, damnit!" 

His hands were on Marzio's shoulders now. The two marks on the Angelian's back burned, making him aware of what he sought to obtain. Goddess, how he wanted to accept Ignis' offer, to be in the safety of those arms forever, abandon all prejudices and grasp that new truth, living by its rules as if nothing else mattered. 

But he could not, could he? It would go against everything he had believed in his whole life. 

"Truly, Ignis, this is going nowhere. I cannot accept something you cannot offer without destroying everything you have worked so hard to accomplish." 

Rage crossed the claret eyes. "And who are _you_ to determine that? How can you know what I hold true, what _my people_ holds true?" 

Marzio tried to sound reasonable. "I know you, my prince. I have grown to know you better with every moment we have spent together. I..." 

"You _what_? You know me better than I know myself?" The Demon was positively furious now. "Do you realize how many times I have heard these words? How many mouths said them, not knowing what a great lie they were? _You know nothing_ , Marzio. And you cannot decide my future in my place." 

Without realizing it, the Angelian shot back, "I wouldn't try to if you would think straight! How can you possible want to share your life with a crippled traitor?" 

The back of Ignis' hand landed across his face making him fall back on the bed. It was a good reminder of the prince's physical strength, which Marzio had almost forgotten; and it also showed the Demon did not like to be questioned about his decisions. However, he had never before hit anyone in Marzio's presence. In all their contradictory debates, he had never raised a hand against his lover. 

Marzio's left cheek burned like fire and he instinctively covered it with his hand, the fall of his hair hiding it from sight. It would undoubtedly bruise; but what was one more mark to the ones already covering his body? Why would this one be any different? 

'Because _he_ did it. The one you love gave it to you!' his mind told him just as Ignis spoke again, all of a sudden distant and cold. 

"If that is how you feel, then there is nothing more to be said between us." 

The door was slammed almost hard enough to make it jump from its hinges. Ignis left Marzio to crawl fully onto the bed, still holding his face, alone with a myriad of unpleasant feelings and thoughts. 

* * *

Three hours later, the Prince of Demonis was still pacing furiously in the antechamber, mumbling incoherently under his breath. Tempesta had been watching him for some time, though he had barely acknowledged her presence since she had returned from the lunch meeting with the mayor. 

And he was quite angry. 

'Why would Marzio say such things? Does he truly believe he was worthless? And _crippled_ , of all things?! Why, he radiates more strength and self-awareness that I can remember ever seeing in him!' 

That Marzio loved him, he had no doubt. Nor did he question his own love toward the Angelian. But then, why had Marzio refused to see the truth? Why would he hide behind lies and superstitions he no longer believed in? 

"Fool!" he said out loud, wearing another trail in the thick carpet. "Angelian idiot!" 

And Tempesta knew better than argue with him, of course. Actually, she probably agreed to these epithets, deep inside... But no, she respected Marzio just as Ignis did. She did not show it, that was all. She had never liked discussing this matter. 

"I wish he's crawl into a hole and stay there!" the prince spoke again, eager for the utter cliché that the words represented, eager to be someone normal for a change and not the sovereign of Demonis, the future of two lands laying on his shoulders. Why did this always happen to him? And why in Drako's name was he always doomed to loneliness? 

"You don't mean that," Tempesta finally cut in, sipping elegantly at a glass of ruby wine. 

He glared at her. "And how would you know?" 

He was being mean to her without a reason, and he knew it just as well as he knew he _didn't_ really want to lose Marzio. But the Angelian general had always had the most annoying ability to twist Ignis' words and give them a meaning they did not have. 

His friend smiled. "You said it yourself - you're in love with him. And frankly, this time even _you_ know it's the truth - prophecy or no prophecy." 

He growled and let himself sink onto the couch next to her. "Why are things so complicated? Why does he always have to interpret everything I say? Was I not blunt enough? But he is smart, he figured out what I meant. Then why...?" 

He let his voice fade out, and wished his inner turmoil would take the same path. "Perhaps I should have waited a little longer. Maybe he is not ready for such a commitment." So many explications ran through the prince's mind, so many alternatives unexplored before that detail had caught his attention. 

And he had _slapped him_ ; he had slapped his lover like a haughty lord would a lowly servant. He was ashamed of it, and it pained him a great deal. Just as the harsh words he had forced himself to say, and which he wanted to take back. He wanted to go back into that bedroom and make things right between the two of them. 

"This fight, was it his fault or yours?" Tempesta demanded, still sipping at her wine, her mind elsewhere. 

"I believe we both said things we should not have brought up. But he looked so convinced of them - a pack of lies, really. He said he loves me, and yet his following words spoke different. He declared my best interests... and yet I do not see things that way." 

She nodded. "And is there another secret behind this?" 

"I only asked him to come back to Demonis with me and become my Consort." 

The woman chuckled. "No wonder he quoted your best interests! I imagine he did not agree." 

Ignis frowned. "He claimed he has no worth left, that he is no longer the man I knew." He shook his head indignantly. "He _is_. Not the one I knew, but the one he would have been, had he been allowed it; the one I caught glimpses of all the time. And he is too stubborn realize it!" 

"And his refusal made you furious, I imagine," Tempesta concluded. 

"Hell yes. Raving. I shouted at him and..." 

"Ignis, to paraphrase something you said long ago, there is no couple I know of that does not have a fight every now and then," she interrupted him. "But things often turn out for the best. Now, why don't you go apologize and explain yourself to him? I'm sure once he understands the way you see things, he will reconsider." 

There was truth in her words; and yet he had been so harsh with Marzio! Would his lover ever forgive him? 

'Well, there is only one way to find out, and it is not by sitting here,' he decided. He stood up and made for the bedroom hurriedly, not bothering to face his general and friend as he said, "No matter what you hear, stay out of that room. This is between him and me alone!"


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Everything had ended; and Marzio knew it was mostly his fault. He should not have turned down Ignis' offer. He should have gone to Demonis and started a new life at the prince's side. 

Oh, who was he fooling? It had been an offer made in pity, had it not? And Ignis' last words stung him, gradually making place for a deep ache that consummated his whole being. 

A lie, that's what their relationship had been. The prince hadn't really loved him. No one could love him, in spite of all better hope. And why would a Demon feel what one of his own people couldn't? Why would a prince lower himself like this, when he could have anyone he wanted? 

Desperately clutching a hand at his chest, Marzio curled up on the bed. He would be asked to leave, soon. He would never see the Prince of Demonis again. And he had nowhere left to go. 

His left cheek hurt where the blow had landed. A proper mark, for daring to talk up in such a manner, he reckoned. But it was nothing compared to his inner turmoil, to the deep sorrow in his heart. 

He heard the door slam again, furious steps come towards him. The time to leave was apparently nearer than expected. Well, he would go then; go without looking back. 

He raised his head to see who the new assailant was. It was Ignis. He would order Marzio away personally, then - it hurt even more, to be cast out by his lover. Yet Marzio knew he would obey; he would obey any order or request coming from the prince. 

Hands grabbed him; curiously, instead of pulling him off the bed they shoved him back down, as the red-haired Demon climbed on top of him with no hesitation. One hand pushed the blond mane away from Marzio's face, slender fingers impossibly soft and patient as they spread the long waves in a golden halo around his head. The drowning eyes held no hate or revulsion, but love and desire. And pain. 

Then Ignis closed his mouth on Marzio's, ravishing his lips with a passion he had never shown before. He had always been tender, but now he was almost brutal in his need. 

When Ignis pulled back, the blond opened his mouth to ask what this was all about; but in a flash he was silenced, a warm tongue forcing itself past his teeth, claming him with ardent passion. And when this second kiss was broken as well, the prince ordered, "Silence, my foolish lover! I don't want to hear another word. I've had enough of talking! I'll simply show you that you are not worthless." 

Marzio could only stare at the determination on Ignis' face, at the firm set of his mouth as the pale fingers hastily got rid of the robe Marzio was wearing, one hand pulling him up long enough to push the offending garment out of the way. Ignis' hands were everywhere now, rashly running over Marzio's exposed body, demanding in their urgency. 

Still not completely sure where this would lead, Marzio just stood still, afraid he might ruin it. A few moments in Ignis' presence and his fears had already melted away; and the Demon was so eager in his insistence, so willing to please. Suddenly there was no denying what would happen next. And Marzio was frightened at how much he wanted this. Frightened by his body's prompt responses, at the passion growing with each touch. 

Placing hungry kisses on Marzio's shoulders and neck, Ignis now firmly pulled his body up again and crawled behind his lover to explore the two long scars. They had healed fast and nicely, two parallel lines of angry red the only proof there had once been wings attached to the broad back. Just a little hesitant, the prince traced one of them with the tip of his index finger, so lightly it could have been a blow of the Mauri's breeze. His lover's body shuddered violently at the contact, and a moan escaped his lips. Marzio could feel the heat gathering inside his body, and he fought the desire to lean back in the touch, gripping violently at a pillow that happened to be at hand. 

Pleased with the result, Ignis traced the other scar in the same fashion, and then he bent his head to run his tongue up the vulnerable area. Scar tissue was always more sensitive to the touch than the rest of the skin; yet he had to be careful not to cause pain instead of the pleasure he sought to offer his lover. His foolish lover, who saw himself worthless now that he had managed to warn Ignis of the danger that lay ahead. His foolish lover, who would soon realize he was nothing of the sort. 

Lightly running his fingers over the scars one last time, the Demon used his other hand to lift the golden hair and bare Marzio's neck, and he nibbled at the skin behind his ear. It was one of those secret pleasure spots, which had always sent a thrill of sensations through his lover's body. How well he remembered it, as if it had been merely hours ago, not the long winter months that had truly passed since they had last made love. 

Yes, they would have that closeness again. Nothing would part them this time, not even Marzio's silly ideas that had led to their earlier fight. Ignis realized they had this tendency to always make love after they had quarrelled. It had been some sort of unwritten ritual, to forget all about the harsh words in the heat of passion. 

This time didn't seem to be an exception. 

His restless hands found Marzio's already building erection and stroked it mercilessly through the cloth of his trousers. The deep throaty sounds his lover was making only served to turn him on more. An urgency he had not felt before was taking hold of him and making his motions almost aggressive. 

But Marzio did not mind; quite the contrary. Fighting back the urge to abandon himself to the sensations and feeling such need he had not experienced in a very long time, he suddenly whirled around and pinned Ignis down on the mattress, letting go of all thoughts except having the prince squirming under him as soon as possible. His desire, repressed for too long, finally took over as he straddled his lover and forced his hands up, holding them over his head in a firm grip, looking down at his captive prey in hunger and anticipation. 

He licked his lips. Ignis' false helplessness had him looking as tempting and alluring as the most forbidden of pleasures, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted invitingly, body trembling slightly as if in fear. The illusion was perfect, although Marzio was sure the prince could have broken free at any moment if he wanted to. 

Marzio looked around him for something to bind Ignis with. The easiest choice was the sash that had held his robe into place, and luckily it was within a hand's reach. As he made a lounge for it and grabbed it, Ignis' eyes widened. But he did not protest when Marzio bound his wrists together, over his head. Now Marzio had all that lean body to himself, to sweetly torture his lover until he would beg for release. 

Too late did he realize Ignis was still clothed. 

Well, truth be said, he actually enjoyed ripping the shirt from the man's upper body. After all, what was a ruined piece of clothing compared to the toned and yet stunningly soft flesh that it hid from sight? 

Soon, not an inch of exposed skin had escaped Marzio's unrelenting caresses, his fingers running over his lover's lean abdomen as he bent down to bite at a pink nipple. The stretched body under him tensed as he ran his tongue over Ignis' chest, taking a sharp breath as Marzio's teeth finally closed on their target. 

Delicious, the musky scent coming from the Demon's flesh, the slide of his skin against Marzio's as the prince pulled himself up, using the headboard and his feet for support, his manhood rubbing against the Angelian's in the motion. 

A fire erupted inside Marzio, and he could wait no more. Instinctively reaching out for the top drawer of the little nightstand, he found what he was looking for - a little glass vial. He cast Ignis a glance to find him grinning sheepishly, and he laughed out loud. In his mind, he praised his lover for anticipating this. But Ignis had made it clear that no words were needed. Words would bring pain where there was no need for it. 

Sighing, Marzio decided not to dwell in it for too long. Instead, he took off the rest of their clothing and ran his fingers up Ignis' thighs, enjoying the familiar feel of muscles under tender skin, of tendons stretching as he parted the Demon's legs, at the same time pushing his knees up and positioning himself between his lover's legs. 

Ignis was proudly erect, demanding Marzio's attentions. As he bent down and ran his tongue over the oversensitive inner side, the Demon gave sound to a loud moan which soon turned into a desperate groan as Marzio ran slow circles with his tongue down the shaft, and sucked at each testicle. 

Now Ignis truly began trashing under him, almost wild with desire. He wanted Marzio inside him, filling him, completing him. He pulled at the bonds tentatively, careful not to hurt himself and yet strongly enough to loosen them and free himself from their restraint. 

Marzio took no notice of this as he continued licking Ignis' erection. Feeling his lover's distress, he finally pulled back and poured some of the oily liquid onto his fingers, lightly running them over Ignis' opening. He pushed one inside, muscles quickly clenching it in exquisite heat. He pulled it out and penetrated Ignis again, with two fingers this time. The prince buckled under him, biting his lips and struggling with the bonds, apparently to no end. Roughly inserting a third finger, Marzio delighted in a loud groan of agonized need. He kept moving his fingers in and out, and used his free hand to lubricate his aching erection. He would soon be buried in the searing heat of Ignis' body, muscles clenching his burning desire. The mere thought made him shiver as he removed his fingers and prepared to enter his lover. 

It was the perfect timing for Ignis to make his move. Gripping Marzio's waist firmly with his feet, he finally managed to release his arms and used his full strength to turn Marzio over, pinning his back and arms against the headboard, a grin his reply to the sheer amazement in the Angelian's eyes. Now Ignis had Marzio right where he wanted him. 

Grabbing the sash Marzio had used to bind him, he gave his lover the same treatment, only he fixed the Angelian's wrists apart on the headboard so there would be no chance of escape. He could feel Marzio's hardness pulsing firmly against his buttocks, ready for penetration. Well, he would not keep him waiting for long. 

Pulling himself up on his knees, resting his palms on Marzio's broad shoulders for leverage, he started his slow descent over the awaiting rigidity of his lover's glistening erection, fighting the inevitable resistance of his muscles. Something like 'we shouldn't have waited this long...' vaguely crossed his mind, but it was not the time to reflect on such issues. He needed to show his Marzio how precious and dear he still was to him. And if words were not enough to convince him of his devotion, he'd use the full force of his passion as his soundless cry of love. With that purpose in mind, he took a deep breath, and willed his body to embrace his lover's velvety heat. 

Pain. Nothing he had not known before. Stillness, and his lover's look of concern. He didn't know if he wanted to kiss him or slap him again. This was not their first time, after all! When was Marzio going to learn he was not made of glass? Clenching his teeth to drive away the pain he had no means escaping, he forced himself down until Marzio was fully inside him, his erection pulsing in the tight depths of his body. 

The Demon seethed. It had been a foolish thing to do, but he had waited for too long to give up at the last moment. He closed his eyes and breathed steady for a few moments, feeling the need to have his lover's guidance through this. He blindly reached out and unbound Marzio, apologizing with a kiss for what could not be unsaid or undone. 

He was a little anxious, but the blond's reassuring smile told him it was going to be all right. Drawing a sharp breath, Ignis forced his body up and then down again, a little unsteady until he found the right pace and angle. Marzio's large hands took hold of his lean hips, gently helping him into finding a natural, comfortable rhythm. 

It went smoothly from there. Frenziedly, urgently, but smoothly. Marzio's right hand left Ignis' thigh after a while to stroke his lover while the Demon continued his wild rhythm, head thrown back, hair fawning around him savagely. 

Ignis was stunning in his passion, like a god of fire caught in the middle of his coupling dance, Marzio decided, increasing his rhythm in time with his lover. And his, _all his_! He could not remember why they had argued, or why he had ever doubted Ignis' love for him. There was no greater proof than the sheer abandon to passion that the prince showed, the chanting groans leaving his lips as he continued to willingly offer himself to Marzio, making sure his lover would receive the most pleasure he could offer. 

It became unbearable, for both of them. Finally, the Angelian could hold back no longer; this sudden display of fervour combined with nearly five months of abstinence said their word as he came inside his lover's body with the same violence that had been at work throughout the whole experience. His release triggered off Ignis', who with a final moan came all over Marzio's hand, shouting his name again as he had done their first time together. Then he let his body fall on top of his lover, arms limp at his sides, his breath the only sign he was actually alive. He did nothing to prevent Marzio's arms encircling him, stroking his sweat-glistening skin and pushing away plastered hair from his face and lidded eyes. He just laid there, motionless, wings still fully stretched out as they had been when he had reached completion, heart beating wildly in his chest, mind blank except for the remains of the immense pleasure that had drowned him barely moments before. 

* * *

"You are a bit crazy, you know that?" Marzio finally said. 

Had the prince's head not been on his shoulder, he would have missed the weak nod. Ignis' lips moved twice before a weak sound was uttered: "... drained..." 

Marzio smiled, knowing this to be an extraordinarily achievement considering the young Demon's seemingly endless stamina. "I can't believe I finally managed to wear you out." 

A soft chuckle as Ignis' fingers regained their ability to move, running up Marzio's arms, delicate and moist and completely seductive in their innocent movement. The prince finally opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. The mid-afternoon sun cast orange and red reflections in the room through the pulled curtains, bathing them both in a soft and warm light. He looked up at Marzio, taking in the fair beauty of his features. In this light, his lover's hair was the colour of molten gold. He mustered enough strength to run a strand through his fingers. Yes, definitely golden. 

"You are gorgeous," he whispered. "Utterly irresistible..." 

This time, Marzio did not try to deny it like he had countless times before. 

Ignis closed his eyes again, enjoying this intimate proximity of skin against skin. Marzio was still buried inside him, but the undemanding invasion of his lover's spent softness did not bother him at all. A secret smile played on his lips as he pondered with the idea of staying like this forever. It did not displease him one bit. 

Still, he pulled away, carefully sliding off his lover, kissing Marzio tenderly. He could taste him for ages and still ask for more, he decided. But again, it was only an idea. Claiming his side of the bed, he moved to pull Marzio's body in the circle of his arms, dark wings enfolding him once more as if to reassure him of their owner's protectiveness. 

"Did you sense it too?" the prince asked as he began playing in his lover's hair absent-mindedly. 

"Hmm?" 

"The way it feels like when we make love. It just seems right." 

"Now that you mention it, I do feel something is different when I'm with you. I thought it was just me, but..." Marzio shook his head. "Tell me the truth, Ignis: did you ask me to be your Consort just because of this prophecy, or did you really mean it?" 

"To hell with the prophecy! I would fight a thousand wars to have you by my side." Ignis sighed. "I just wish you would learn to trust me, beloved. I also wish you'd start seeing your true value. What you did in these past few months takes real courage, and it will only raise you in my people's esteem. Was it selfish of me to ask you to come back to Demonis and have your proper place at my side?" 

Marzio let his hands circle the prince's waist. "No, just unexpected. I fear I have lied to you - right now there's nothing I want more than to be with you. But becoming your Consort... That's a serious commitment, Ignis. I'd just like to put some of order in my life before I can answer that." 

"I understand." Ignis caressed the cheek where his slap had ended earlier. "And I apologize for hitting you. Normally I would never do that, but I've reached the limit of my patience a bit too often these last couple of days." 

"It's all right. I should be the one apologizing. I should never have said those things, to you of all people." Marzio tightened his hold. "But I thought..." 

Long fingers silenced him; warm lips touched his brow lovingly. "I know what you thought. Never out of pity, Marzio - do you hear me? I would never ask something as important as that out of pity. And you can take your time with the answer. There is no hurry. We have all the time in the world, my love." 

Marzio wanted to believe him; he couldn't remember himself wanting something with such intensity before. 

Then, typically, he remembered something he'd been meaning to ask the prince. "Ignis, about this prophecy... you were given a choice just like me, right?" 

"Yes; when I was twelve. My mother had died half a year before, and I was having trouble finding a purpose in life. Then the Sorceress asked me if, were I given the chance to change the world, I would try to do it. Even then, I was such an idealist! What would a child know about changing the world? But I accepted. And here I am." 

"Here _we are_ , you mean," Marzio corrected him. "That woman... the Sorceress, you called her? She said I would never see you again if I didn't do this. I could not live with that, just as I could not live with the thought I might have been one of the causes of your death. And there was this voice in my mind that couldn't refuse the chance I was being offered. It kept saying I could start a new life, one in which I made my own destiny. And maybe, just maybe, you would be part of that new life too. So you see, in a way we are both idealists." 

He laughed, and so did Ignis. "I knew you had it in you, Angelian! Now, how about we actually rest for a while, mm? We're busy tonight, remember?" 

"Khest!" Marzio grumbled. "You're supposed to meet Ceni this evening." 

"I'm sure he'll be happy to know you are safe. Now go to sleep, before I change my mind and ask for another bout of retribution! And if I have to do _that_ , I swear I won't go any easier on you!" 

Marzio chuckled knowingly. "Yes, I noticed you were quite enthusiastic. Not that I am complaining, mind it." 

His mind drifted off, 'No, I am not complaining at all...' 

* * *

Ceni knew something was wrong the moment Meris Owen met them at the gates that evening. There was a dark look in the Dreak's eyes he had not seen before, and that had not been there the last time they had seen each other. And the request for this meeting, though not really suspicious, had left the Angelian officer thinking about the last time when he had been supposed to "discuss security" with the captain, and had gotten to talk to Prince Sagni-Dor instead. 

Ceni knew that today was a _bad_ day to meet with the prince. A courier had arrived that morning from Angelia, bringing with him the news that Marzio had disappeared from the prison in Mnemon. Not escaped, but literally _disappeared_ ; and nobody had known where he had gone. So Ceni had spent the rest of the morning organizing guard posts at every single access gate into the city, a task that needed to be done but which he didn't enjoy. Laying traps to capture one's best friend was not something one could be proud of. 

And on top of that, Princess Selena had practically stormed into his room that afternoon and _demanded_ to be taken to see the Prince of Demonis, because there was something urgent she needed to tell him. After much persuasion, she had finally given in and told him what it was all about, and Ceni had just clenched his teeth, got her the most inconspicuous clothes he could find on such short notice, and smuggled her out of the palace. 

So here they were, following the Captain of the Prince's Personal Guard through the villa's courtyard with the man looking not too pleased - a thing that could be due to Selena's presence, but also to something by far more serious. And no, the Angelian officer did not want to think what that 'something else' could have been. If Selena's warning came too late... 

"Your lady friend shall have to wait here," Meris Owen said as he stopped into an empty receiving hall on the second floor. 

Ceni cleared his throat. "Well, you see... she would like to speak with Prince Sagni-Dor, if possible. And she is not exactly my _friend_. More like a pesky acquaintance." 

Selena stepped on his foot, making him yelp in pain. 

The Demon crossed his arms over his chest and addressed Selena for the first time that evening. "State your name, rank and business with the Prince." 

The Angelian princess looked around and, seeing that there was no one there except the three of them, removed the hood of her cloak. "You already know my name, and this is a matter that cannot wait." 

The dark-haired captain raised a brow, then bowed ever so slightly. "Please wait here for a moment, both of you." Then he hurried through a door on the left. 

"Khest! Did you have to step on my foot quite that hard? That was a _very_ unladylike thing to do!" Ceni hissed at the princess once they were alone. 

"You called me pesky. No one calls me pesky." 

"Well, you _are_! And don't even think about throwing one of your fits now, because that will only keep you from seeing the prince. Why the hell did you have to come with me, again?" 

"Because it was _I_ who overheard Kelan, and because I don't trust you." 

"Fine! Because I don't trust _you_ , either!" 

"Fine!" 

"Are you two quite done yet?" 

Blood rushed in Ceni's cheeks as he turned to see that the Demon captain was back. Thankfully, the princess looked quite flustered as well. 

Meris Owen shook his head and held the door open for them. "Come this way." 

Ceni could not quite shake the feeling that they were literally dumped into the opulent receiving room and left to their own devices... but it wasn't quite so, for they were not alone. Prince Ignis was seated elegantly in an armchair and looked at them with an expression that was only half-serious. 

"Your Highness, Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel," he greeted them, not standing up. "Why don't you have a seat?" He indicated a couch in front of him. 

Both Angelians accepted his invitation, and Ceni made sure to sit as far away from the princess as possible. Though they were both friends with Marzio, for some strange reason they simply could not stand each other; and Selena tended to act like a brat around Ceni, which didn't help his composure at all. 

"I do not mean to sound impolite, Princess Selena, but is there a reason for your visit?" the Demon asked. "If I recall correctly, my meeting this evening was only with Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel." 

'Oh hells! He knows about Marzio's escape!' That was the first thought that came into the officer's mind, and he tried his best to keep breathing steadily. If he knew, then he was planning something. Again. And Ceni wasn't very sure he could turn him down if he asked for his help. He hadn't been able too, before. 

If the prince noticed anything, he did not comment on it. In fact, he wasn't looking at Ceni at all. 

"I hope you don't mind my presence," Selena replied. 

The Demon raised a brow. "Actually I _do_ mind your presence, but not for the reasons you think. You simply shouldn't be here, lady." 

"And why is that? Because women shouldn't interfere in men's business? Well, I choose to interfere! What are you going to do about it, spank me?" 

The prince's face was firm, but his lips twitched up even so slightly. "If you insist... There is no law, written or unwritten, that prohibits women from taking part in any type of conversation in Demonis. But if your father finds out you came here, he might interpret this as an attempt at seduction on your behalf. And we don't want him to think his dear daughter would be attracted to filthy Demon scum, do we now?" 

Selena bristled, but managed to keep her mouth shot - something that surprised Ceni to no end. "The reason I insisted on coming here tonight is a serious one. I overheard Lord Kelan..." 

"... talking about a possible assassination attempt on my person, with Lord Lavian right in the middle of it." The prince laughed at what must have been the Angelians' poleaxed expressions. "But as far as I know, my dear, you overheard this discussion quite a few weeks ago, in which case it does not explain your need to suddenly divulge this secret to the lieutenant-colonel here, after having been totally against the idea when General Zain-Reil suggested that you did so, _also_ several weeks ago." He grinned. "Did I get that right, or were there some details that I missed?" 

Selena seemed to find her feet most interesting. "H-how do you find out all this?" she asked. 

The Demon gave her a mysterious smile. "Oh, I have most reliable sources. Still, it does not explain your presence here, Princess." 

"I though... that is... if I told you myself, you might believe it, so..." 

Ceni groaned. "Damnit, Selena, why didn't you tell me sooner? If Marzio said to tell me, then you should have." 

"Because you're an oaf. And how was I to know you would not run and report to Kelan instead?" 

"I would never betray Marzio's trust!" 

"Like hell you wouldn't!" 

"Would not!" 

"Would too!" 

The prince's laughter interrupted them. "Marzio was right, you do bicker like a married couple." 

"Marzio said that about us? What else did he say?" 

"He said many things, my dear princess, but it is not for me to reveal them. Still, as entertaining as it may be to witness one of your arguments, may I remind you that we are running out of time?" 

She blinked. "Running out of time for what?" 

"For the meeting, of course. And there was something I wanted to know, something relatively important." 

His eyes turned to Ceni, who found himself sitting up straight on the couch. 'Here it comes...' 

"Something that has to do with the treaty." 

The Angelian officer didn't realize he had been holding his breath until her released it. 

"Oh, and I can see how _that_ is more important than your personal safety," Selena jumped in. "We came here to warn you that your life might be in danger and all you care about is your blasted treaty?" 

Prince Ignis rested his chin on one hand and studied her through narrowed eyes. "The treaty means a great deal to me, and I need to know how your people feel about it. Since I cannot rely just on my sources for that information, and since I am sure there are in fact different opinions and speculations, I thought I might ask someone who knows what goes on." 

Feeling left out of the conversation, the princess huffed. "Ceni isn't the only one who knows what's going on, so listen here! Not only are _my_ people quite happy with this treaty thing, but they are most unhappy with Kelan doing his best to sabotage it, and say that if daddy had more brains then he would have done this a long time ago. How is _that_ for information?!" 

Ceni fought hard not to groan at the fact that she had just given the Demon very valuable information without realizing it, and at the language she had used. When she got angry, she did not sound like a princess at all. More like a spoiled brat... though one had to admit she was not stupid. 

Prince Sagni-Dor was smiling. "Thank you, your highness. That _was_ most valuable information. And I do believe that, with a few lessons in manners and speech, you would make an excellent politician." 

Whereas she had been angry, now she blushed and looked down in her lap. "You really think so?" 

The Demon laughed. "I think so. Lieutenant-colonel Mah-Kel, is something bothering you?" 

"If I could have a word with you in private..." 

The prince nodded. "If you excuse us, Princess," he said in his most charming voice as he escorted Selena to the door, leaving her no time to realize she was being kicked out until the door closed in her face. 

Ceni stopped kneading a corner of his cloak in his hands and stood up. "A courier arrived today from Mnemon. Marzio escaped from prison nearly two weeks ago." 

The prince did not seem surprised at all. "Please continue." 

"King Teh-Kai... Well, not him but the Council members, ordered patrols posted at every gate of the city. They think he might be coming here. Your highness, I... I do not mean to sound cruel, but if they catch him there is nothing I can do to help him. So I thought you could... I don't know what I thought you could do. I... I just wanted you to know he escaped." 

Ignis stepped forward and placed a hand on Ceni's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ceni. I can guarantee no patrol will catch Marzio sneaking into the city." 

"He trained those men himself..." 

"I do not doubt their abilities; but they will not catch him. Not because they are not well-trained, but because Marzio is already _here_." 

If not for the prince's hand steadying him, Ceni would have probably felt on the floor in a heap. As it was, it was all he could do to keep his knees from completely giving up on him as he looked at the Demon hopefully. 

"Understand that I am telling you this because you helped me send that note to him even if you didn't have to, and that even if you tell anyone your people cannot come and take him away from me. But I also wanted to give you a fair warning. Marzio will be with me in the City Hall tomorrow, a thing that might not make Lord Kelan very happy." 

"I understand. But... can I see him? Speak to him? Please, I have to..." 

The prince shook his head. "He doesn't want you to see him. I think he is, in a way, ashamed of what happened to him. But I am sure he'll appreciate your concern." 

"Then please give him a message from me. Tell him... that while I think he's the craziest person I've ever met, I am glad that he finally came to his senses and got out of Angelia for good. He didn't fit in there anyway. His ideas were far too progressive for our people." 

There was a hidden sadness in the prince's smile as he released Ceni and led him to the door.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Marzio's clothes were delivered later that evening. Just in time, too - the treaty was to be signed in less than twenty hours. Somehow, time passed differently being at his lover's side, where he inwardly knew he had belonged the whole time. Ignis was still keeping to his rooms, in order to make his plan work, and Marzio had to do the same so that his presence would not be revealed to the Angelian spies - Kelan's spies. However, two nights before they had visited a tailor who had asked little questions about the opulent costumes he had been ordered to make in such a short time. Marzio suspected he had either been paid a great sum of money, had owed the prince something, or was a spy. Perhaps all three at the same time. 

Trying not to think about facing his former sovereign, Marzio allowed himself to relax as his lover unwrapped the first of the two parcels the tailor's apprentice had delivered at the gate and Kheerah had eagerly brought upstairs. However, he was forced to get out of the armchair as the prince beckoned him over, a triumphant smile gracing his face. Marzio had witnessed Ignis drawing the sketches and, like all clothes in the Demon's wardrobe, they would be unique. Not having the Court of Demonis' tailor at his disposal had been an inconvenience, but as usually he had managed. 

Currently though, Ignis was absorbed in the task of stretching a forest green tunic on the bed covers and checking every seam and the gold-embroidered lapels. He found nothing wrong and moved on to producing trousers of an even deeper green, lined with the same embroidered pattern of gold thread, from the bundle of wrapping paper. He set them next to the tunic and examined them just as thoroughly. Marzio suddenly realized the tunic was a little too broad in the shoulders to suit Ignis' lithe frame, and gasped in surprise. These were the clothes meant for him. 

"What, no blue?" he asked, trying to hide the excitement under a little disappointment. It did not work, for he was once more overwhelmed by Ignis' generosity. This was the second time he received clothes from his lover. 

Ignis did not reply, but handed him a sash of pure silk, in a gradient from the purest white to a deep blue. Sewn on it was the crest of the Zain-Reil family, a phoenix on a field of silver and blue, the contrast not managing to alter the harmony of colours. It was followed by a pair of white gloves, a collarless white shirt with loose sleeves, other items of clothing and finally a large burgundy mantle. The boots, black and polished so hard that they shone, had been delivered earlier. 

Ignis disappeared into the bathroom with the other parcel and spent about ten minutes in there. Marzio was too distracted by his own outfit to notice. The cut was strange, not entirely Demon but certainly not Angelian. He wondered what he would look like in them... 'But no, not right now. Right now I have to thank Ignis for the clothes, and what better way to do it than...' 

"Love?" Marzio turned to see he was alone in the room. "Ignis?" he called again, louder. 

The prince was hiding a satisfied grin as best he could while he closed the bathroom door a little too fast to escape the Angelian's notice. "Yes?" 

"Alright, you dreadful prince, what are you plotting again that I shouldn't know about?" 

Ignis threw himself at his lover, pulling him down on the bed and barely missing the laid-out clothes. "Who, me?" he asked innocently, but did not conceal his amusement. He fluttered his lashes in a very good imitation of a high-born girl trying to seduce a stable-boy. "Why, you and the rest of the world shall have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out." 

"You are awful, you know that?! But I love you anyway," he added and kissed the soft lips eagerly, as Ignis abandoned himself to his insistent kisses once more. 

But later, much later, he told Marzio in his most serious voice, "Your dear king and his 'trusted advisor' will have a fit when they see me tomorrow." 

The Angelian smiled. 'Knowing Ignis, they will probably not be the only ones.' 

* * *

There was less than an hour before the treaty was to be signed, and the Prince of Demonis was still inside the bathroom, with Kheerah and a closed door between him and the world. The rest of the Demon delegation had already left the manor, receiving that order through four inches of wood. Ignis had insisted that Marzio waited for him, though, so there he was, wearing the green outfit that had him looking more threatening than his old general's uniform ever had, armed with broadsword and two hidden daggers, and gazing out the window as he waited for Ignis to finally come out. What was taking him so damn long?! 

The sound of the door finally opening and hurried footsteps told him that Kheerah had left, also marking the point when he had had enough. He turned, taking a few angry steps ready to break down the offending obstacle... and stopped in his tracks. 

Standing in front of him was the God of War himself, in pure black clothing lined with equally black thread, long black cloak thrown carelessly over one shoulder to reveal black feathers and the gilded pommel of a sword. His eyes were carefully lined with dark kohl and a faint silver shade covered his eyelids, drawing even more attention to those fiery flaming irises, and the gold-crafted Coronet of Demonis rested on a pure red waterfall. He was regal and serene, safe for the little mocking smile playing on his beautiful lips. 

Marzio took a step back, actually intimidated. "Drako," he whispered, still not quite believing. 

The expression softened and the War God suddenly transformed into someone more familiar. Ignis looked at Marzio lovingly and at the same time chuckled darkly. "Let us hope you shall not be the only one who gets that impression." He pointed to the edge of the bed. "Sit down. If you're eventually going to become my Consort, you might at least start looking like it." 

Not quite sure what that meant, Marzio decided it was better to obey. Ignis produced some golden paint which he began applying to Marzio's eyelids. 

"But I will look like a woman!" the older man protested. 

"No, but if you don't stand still you will look like a highborn dandy." 

That had Marzio calm enough for Ignis to finish, then put the paint away and retrieve a square box of indiscernible content. "We are running late," Marzio warned him. 

The prince shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. "That was the plan all along. Besides, important persons always run late." He drew Marzio up and opened the box to retrieve a band of sterling silver embedded with emeralds. "Kneel before me," he ordered, and when Marzio did he placed the band on Marzio's forehead. "Lord Marzio Zain-Reil, I hereby name you Commander of Demonis' Second Division of Cavalry. You may rise," he added a little less formally, actually lending him a hand up. "There, now you have a formal position among my staff, so no one can arrest you without my permission. Let's see what Kelan has to say to that, shall we?" he winked, and rushed the dazed Marzio down into the courtyard, where two saddled warhorses waited to take them to Quiris' City Hall. 

Hooded and dangerous, they made it with only ten minutes delay, which actually had Ignis pouting a little. The anteroom was empty, but the two could sense the restlessness in the air. Ignis actually stopped, removed his hood and released his hair from the leather cord he had used to restrain it during the short ride. He turned toward Marzio, breathing deeply. 

"Here's what happens now. Most of them do not know our delay was on purpose. Lavian is supposedly back in Aquiline with urgent state business, which Kelan should interpret that his plan has worked and I am on my deathbed. They probably think Tempesta is only trying to buy some time, and know she cannot sign the treaty in my place. When we walk in there, I want you to remain hooded until I say your name out loud. I shall try and make things as quick as possible, so don't worry. It is also quite probable that at a certain point I shall sound like I'm a heartless bastard - you know me well enough by now to know I'm just acting, but I wanted to warn you all the same. Also, when you speak up do it convincingly and without fear. Have faith in yourself, and in your friends. I get the feeling they will not let you down. Any questions?" 

Marzio smiled and bowed deeply. "None, most cunning tyrant. Lead the way!" 

The only way Ignis could refrain from laughing was putting on a furious face. Exhaling loudly, he took a step forward and, slamming the oak doors to the walls like they weighted nothing, he strode purposefully into the hall, Marzio in tow. 

All eyes turned to see who had disturbed the increasingly agitated silence. King Teh-Kai drew back in his chair at the sight of the dark fury coming toward the dais, followed closely by a mysterious figure wrapped in burgundy. In less than a minute, the fiery red-haired Demon was mounting the two steps and sitting carelessly in the Prince of Demonis' throne, eyes cold as the cruel little smile made Marzio shiver in dread at the transformation in the Demon sovereign. Kelan looked like all the blood had been drawn from his body, managing a little sound as his mind filled with dread. 

"Y-your Highness..." he managed. 

Ignis' voice came out as cold as his smile had been. "Please excuse the delay. I had to deal with a traitor." 

Marzio had expected him to come to that, but not quite so bluntly. He knew that, inside, his lover was probably not only nervous, but willing to end this uncomfortable situation as fast as possible. He strengthened himself at what was to come, including accusations at his person. They did not matter as they had before, but he somehow had the feeling Kelan would try and make him and the prince most uneasy. 'Oh well... he can try. I am ready for him.' 

He made a quick sign to catch Ceni's eyes while Ignis and King Teh-Kai were busy staring at each other. His friend, stationed just a few feet away from the King's throne, stared at him for a moment, but then he nodded a greeting before looking away. 

In the mean time, Ignis had joined his fingers and had been staring at the king in a most intimidating manner. King Teh-Kai, not quite knowing what to do, replied in a shaggy voice, "Shall we proceed then?" 

Ignis nodded, and gestured for him to sign first. Three copies of the final treaty waited on a velvet-clad table between the two parties. 

But as the Angelian king wanted to lean forward, Kelan intervened. "Pardon me, Prince Sagni-Dor, but you only have two witnesses. Lord Lavian is not here." 

'Of course he isn't, you idiot. I killed him.' The burgundy eyes turned to the advisor and his smile grew malicious. "He most certainly isn't. In fact, I fear he is quite dead." 

That flat tone frightened not only Marzio, but Tempesta as well. In the hall, people stirred at the news, but no one dared raise their voice. The newly-appointed Commander Zain-Reil turned his head to the Supreme Commander of the Army of Demonis and mouthed only for her, the hood hiding his face from the others, 'He's acting.' General Neri-Lokh gave him a quick nod - she knew, and it still frightened her. Meris Owen, Captain of the Guard, was feeling the same. Princess Selena and Lieutenant-Colonel Mah-Kel exchanged looks over their king's throne, wondering at the prince's cold blood. Kelan paled even more and King Teh-Kai looked quite startled. 

"Excuse me, but was he not a very important chancellor?" the monarch of Angelia tried to say neutrally, but his voice betrayed his tenseness. 

"That he was, and a traitorous snake as well. But I have brought a replacement." It was Marzio's clue; he stepped forward and dropped his hood. "Please allow me to introduce the new leader of Demonis' Second Division of Cavalry, Commander Marzio Zain-Reil." 

This time, the hall _was_ in uproar; but it was more of a startled tumult than an angry one. While people stared at him in an amazed shock, the king and Kelan looked like the ceiling had suddenly fallen over their heads. And Marzio could swear he could hear a contented laugh from Ignis inside his mind. 

Outwardly, the prince was content to narrow his eyes even more and smile devilishly at Kelan. 'Son of a whore, how does it feel to be beaten at your own game?' The man looked like he was ready to burst, so in the same unfeeling voice Ignis inquired, "Is anything wrong, lord advisor?" 

Burst he did, in an outraged fury of words. "What is this traitor doing here?! Guards, arrest him!" But the Angelian guards did not move; in fact, neither did anybody else. 

"Lord Loreh-Ven, I expect you to address my future Prince Consort respectfully," Ignis stated. 

"Your _what_?!" Kelan spat, not believing his ears. His sudden indignation was met by the Demon's eyes looking at him with a burning rage that made him stick his back to the wide chair he was sitting in, pinned without escape, fury replaced by dread - he realized that his plan had been discovered. 

King Teh-Kai spoke firmly this time, being the only one not knowing what was going on in the hall. "Prince Sagni-Dor, with all due respect, that man is a traitor and a criminal." 

Ignis' deadly smile did not waver for a second. "And why is that? Because he dared to speak against your chief advisor in Council, warning you what a great mistake you were about to commit? Your Majesty, when did you stop listening to what your people truly had to say?" 

"How dare you..." 

" _Silence_!" Ignis' voice boomed through the hall, covering Kelan's. 'One more word from you and you die. Painfully,' came the silent threat only the lord heard, imprinting itself into his mind. The prince's attention turned to the king again. "Whom did you listen to, when you sent half the men in Angelia to certain death?" 

"My advisors, of course," the monarch replied. 

"Advisors? Oh, but I believe it was your mistress. You know, Lord Loreh-Ven's wife..." 

It was the king's turn to blanch. "What are you insinuating?" 

Ignis' voice regained some feeling, but not much. "What Marzio told you a long time ago, Your Majesty. That you allow your Councilors to rule the country, and do not listen to those who are loyal to the Crown and Angelia, not to their own fame and pockets. Before starting this war - the results of which brought us here -, did you even bother to ask your officers what the odds were, and not some idiots who have no idea how to properly wield a sword in combat? Did you discuss strategy with anyone except that overstuffed noble standing next to you? Why, I bet you didn't even know when and where your army has crossed the border until you got my letter!" 

The king got angry. "That is a preposterous thing to say, Your Highness!" 

"Is it? Then enlighten me, oh most wise one, why did you arrest General Zain-Reil when he spoke the truth against Lord Kelan? You had confirmation that the general was not lying." 

"He wanted to usurp our sovereign, marry the princess and have the throne for himself!" Kelan erupted, pointing accusingly at Marzio, who almost fell over. 'I wanted _what_?' 

"Listen, you silly excuse of a courtier, I never wanted any throne!" Marzio roared at Kelan for the second time in his life. "You think leading an army is not hard enough? What would I do with a country?! All I ever wanted was to make sure His Majesty found out who you really were!" 

The Angelian princess jumped as well. "Father, listen to me! Marzio is my friend. What he earned, he earned with his own power. He would have never _ever_ done anything to cause me, or you, any pain. He was loyal to Angelia and he was loyal to you." 

King Teh-Kai was beginning to get confused. Was his daughter speaking in the traitor's favour? And Prince Sagni-Dor, too? He looked at Lord Loreh-Ven only to find him looking at the Demon like the man was about to bite him. His former High Commander stood proudly next to Prince Ignis' throne - was he wingless? That would clearly mark him as a traitor, but... 

"Zain-Reil, explain yourself, and do it now," he ordered. "And pray tell me how exactly you managed to break out of prison." 

Jumping at the chance he was being offered and praying he would not sound too enthusiastic, Marzio engaged himself in explaining all about Kelan's foul plans, his own discoveries about the man, and the plot against Ignis that Selena had revealed to him. He evasively mentioned someone helping him escape imprisonment, and that he had reached Quiris only four days ago. He felt everyone in the room was glaring at him, waiting for that last detail - why had he warned Ignis? 

"Your Majesty," he finally said, "I am aware that my final actions mean treachery against Angelia. That is why I am willing to leave the country, never to return. But please understand that I never wanted your crown. I give you my word, which I have never betrayed." 

Kelan saw this as his last chance to intervene against Marzio. "You slept with the enemy prince! Your word is worth nothing." 

Ignis, who for all that time had limited himself to listen carefully, and who hated it when people interfered in his private life, spoke before Marzio could even open his mouth. "I do not see it as your business to tell me whom I can sleep with. Do you think me so low and deceiving that I would dishonour my most esteemed adversary and have him betray his country for a night of pleasure? Your Majesty, I can assure you that what we did had nothing to do with politics." 

Finally having heard enough on both sides, King Teh-Kai stood up and faced the hall. "Angelians," he said. "My people... I see myself surrounded by betrayal. So I ask you, what should I do?"

A cold wind passed through the hall. Then one voice shouted, and was quickly backed up by others. "Sign the treaty! Death to Lord Kelan! Peace for Angelia!" 

The old king shook his head, and sitting down again he leaned for the quill. "As you decide," he whispered, and placed his signature on one paper. Kelan, by now blind to anything but rage, suddenly pulled out a dagger and wanted to plunge it in the monarch's side, under everybody's terrified eyes. Two signatures. Simultaneously, Ceni pulled out his sword. Finding no other way, he stabbed the man right in the heart through his back, at the same time catching the hand holding the dagger and pulling it back. 

The blade slipped out of Kelan's hand as he fell on the floor, just as King Teh-Kai drew back after signing the third copy. The poor monarch looked at his former advisor with shocked eyes, until two of the other Angelian guards picked up the corpse and took it out of sight. Then he turned to Ignis, pleading, "Let us end this." 

A sudden twinge rushed up Marzio's back, and he clenched his hands into fists fighting it back. He could not disturb this moment. 

Prince Sagni-Dor nodded and a page turned the three copies of the treaty toward him. He picked up another quill and dipped it in ink, his signature in flowing calligraphy quickly joining the King of Angelia's on all three copies. 

It was then that Marzio collapsed on his hands and knees, screaming. It felt like his back was on fire, and something was crawling under his skin. A strange force immobilized him, but did not dull the pain. What the hell was happening to him? Why now, when he had found love and peace? His thoughts suddenly defragmented as the hurting replaced all coherent thinking with noble perfidy. 

Ignis dropped his façade and, among confusion and startled cries, rushed to kneel by Marzio's side and took him in his arms. The Angelian felt hands trying to soothe the searing burns in his back, tender and confident as only Ignis could be. He began hearing again, exclamations of surprise and a constant voice in his ear tenderly whispering indiscernible words. His vision began to clear, and the warm trails down his face told him he was crying. 

Then the pain stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and all he could feel was tingling spreading quickly through his veins, the same one he remembered from when the Demon prince had healed his side wound. His face was pressed against black velvet, and the gentle hands caressed his back. Warm lips pressed against his temple whispered only to him, "Shh... All is well now. I am here. You'll never have to leave me again." 

The weight of wings on his back felt strange. But he did not have any - they had been cut. He tried to flap the imaginary wings and actually succeeded. Amazing! 

He pulled away and looked up at those eyes full with love and concern. He blinked; it was like seeing Ignis for the first time. The glorious Prince of Demonis, kneeling in front of him. "Ignis, what happened? I cannot tell what happened." 

The Demon smiled as he rose elegantly and pulled Marzio up by his hands. The people gathered din the hall were still whispering something, something about magic and supernatural interference. 

"Ignis...?" he pleaded. 

Suddenly his hands were full of an overjoyed prince who embraced him, speaking against his ear with a voice that broke his heart. "Remember that mural in the Sanctuary, and the angel with red wings?" 

Oh no! He hadn't! He couldn't possible have... 

A pinch had him jump up, and a crimson feather was presented to him by this exuberant lover. "But you did, Marzio. You _did_! And now you are mine forever, my foolish and most fetching angel." 

He pulled back all of a sudden, only to kiss Marzio victoriously. The entire world disappeared in an instant, and they were transported in a world of their own, oblivious to the shocked gasps and loud cheers erupting from their forgotten audience. 

* * *

**~ The End of Part Three ~**   


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